Jonah Hex: Love and War
by Susan Hillwig
Summary: A DC2 collected story! When the West's most notorious bounty hunter decides to settle down and get married, you know things won't be easy, especially when an old enemy resurfaces after years of silence.
1. Prelude to A Reckoning

_Well, here I am again, doing my best to educate the masses as to the past glories and failures in Jonah Hex's life. This story is actually still in progress over at DC2, with the last 2 parts to be posted in July and October of 2010, respectively. But as you may have heard, Jonah's got a movie coming out this June 18th (rated PG-13, buy your tickets now!), so I decided to ride on their marketing coattails and begin the reposting right now - every few weeks, I'll add a new bit over here until we hit the end, sort of like what I did 5 years back with "The Long Road Home"._

_When I started WWQ over at DC2, one of the first questions I got was, "Are you going to cover Mei Ling?" and I gave a firm "maybe" on that. I was waiting to see if Jimmy & Justin would cover Jonah and Mei Ling's relationship in the regular JH book, since I'd jumped the gun and covered Jonah's origin before them (fair's fair...after all, they're getting paid and I'm not). But time passed and, aside from a mention here and there, J&J didn't seem to want to touch that period, so I sat down and looked over the old books to refresh myself on the subject. I knew right off this wasn't going to be like "Death and Gunsmoke", where I strung together bits of flashbacks: if I did this, I couldn't parrot what came before word-for-word, I had to find something different to say about this period, but I also didn't want to go so far off-book that I misled new fans as to what really happened. So for those who know the old history, you'll find some events have been changed while others have been elaborated on (some in ways that the Comics Code certainly wouldn't have allowed!). And for those who are only just beginning to learn about Jonah Hex, please take the time to look for the actual comics, don't ever take what I say as 100% gospel truth - my Hex-fics are just a way of introducing you to the good stuff you may have missed._

_**Disclaimer:**__ All characters in this story are owned by DC Comics. Portions of this story are based on events described in__ Weird Western Tales #13, Jonah Hex (vol. 1) #23 & 42-53, and Jonah Hex (vol. 2) #14, 16-17, 40-41 & 50._

_**Continuity:**__ Originally posted on the DC2 fanfiction site under the issues Weird Western Quarterly #13-17 & 19-20, DC2 Special #5, and Weird Western Spectacular #1. For a link, please click on the homepage listed under my profile._

**LOVE AND WAR: PRELUDE TO A RECKONING**

_**1871:**_

Beau Cochrane felt uneasy. This wasn't his sort of place, all this fancy furniture and servants at your beck and call. Why would a man who lived in this atmosphere want to talk to him? _Reckon I'll find out soon enough_, he thought as the colored houseboy opened the parlor doors and ushered him in. The room beyond the doors was just as plush as the rest of the house, the waning light of sunset coming through the windows and caressing what seemed like acres of mahogany, brass, and silk. A man was sitting with his back to the window, the high back of his chair throwing most of him into shadow, save for his hands, which were clasped upon an eagle-headed cane before him.

"Mastuh Turnbull," the houseboy said, "this here's Mistuh Beauregard Cochrane. Mistuh Temple sent him along tuh help out with...with what you have in mind."

"Thank you, Solomon. That will be all." One hand lifted from the cane in a faint gesture of dismissal, and as the houseboy departed, the hand swept towards a nearby chair. "Please, do have a seat, Mr. Cochrane." He did so, and the man in the shadows asked, "Did Temple explain why I requested your presence here?"

"Not a bit. He just said you had a job for me...though I can't imagine what sort of job a man like you would have for a man like me."

"In due time. First, I want to make sure of your credentials. You are a true Son of the Confederacy, are you not?"

Cochrane nodded, saying, "Captain in the 1st Virginia, under Stuart, God rest his soul."

"Black Horse Cavalry...very good." The man was obviously pleased by that. "And do you still consider yourself a Confederate, sir?"

"I never let 'em force me into signin' one of them loyalty oaths, if that's what you mean. I fought them Yankee bastards for a good five months after Appomattox, 'til they chained me up like a Nigra and tossed me in jail." The corner of his mouth turned up slightly. "Made 'em regret it right quick, too."

"So you have suffered personally at the hands of the North? More than the War, I mean."

"I'd say they're the reason I'm livin' like a damn rat in a hole, yeah. Hard to make a decent wage when the law looks on you as a wanted criminal." Cochrane shifted in his chair. "There a point to all this falderal?"

"As I said, I wanted to make sure of your credentials. You see, I believe the task at hand should be completed by someone like yourself. Someone whose loyalty has never wavered from his native soil...and who would be sickened by the thought that one of his fellow soldiers let those under him suffer for his own personal gain."

That caught Cochrane's attention. "How so?"

"He sold out his own men - three dozen of them - to the Union forces. What he got out of the deal, I do not know, but those men are all dead, just the same. For eight years, he has escaped proper justice...but something tells me that now is the time to rectify the situation." The man leaned forward, revealing an old, haggard face beneath a crown of white hair. "In the name of the 7th Virginia...and in the name of my dearly departed son...I want you to track this man down and make him pay for his crimes. You will be rewarded handsomely, of course, and any expenses you accrue will be covered, no questions asked. All I ask for is proof of the deed."

"You pay me enough money, and I'll do him up like John the Baptist," Cochrane said. "Who is this bastard, anyhow?"

In reply, the man picked something up off the table next to him and handed it to Cochrane. It was a photograph of a young man in Confederate gray...or rather _half _a photograph. The right side of it was jagged, and Cochrane noticed the Reb was reaching over to shake hands with someone who was no longer there.

"His name," Quentin Turnbull said with a note of disgust, "is Jonah Woodson Hex."


	2. Children of Heaven

**CHILDREN OF HEAVEN**

_**1871:**_

The sound of hammers clanging against iron could be heard for miles as workers laid rail across the broad plain. It was a steady rhythm, with men driving spikes into the ties just as soon as other men set them into place. Save for the clanging, the workers themselves made very little noise: they'd learned early on to work in silence, their heads down and eyes focused on their individual tasks. There was still the chance that one of the _gwailo_ bosses might come up and beat them for no good reason, of course, but despite that threat, they continued on with their work, hoping that one day the dreams that had brought them to America would be fulfilled. Sadly, they were unaware that the chances of a Chinaman becoming anything more than a common laborer in this country were terribly slim.

Up and down the rail line, the workers kept up the pace. At one section, a pair named Jin and Fong were busy moving a wooden tie into the spot of earth another worker had just leveled. As they bent down to settle it in, Jin overbalanced and fell, the tie barely missing him as it hit the ground. Fong rushed over to make sure his friend was all right, but he soon saw the glassy stare in Jin's eyes and felt the heat coming off his bone-dry skin.

"Why are you two coolies laying down on the job?" O'Rourke, the team boss, yelled as he stomped over to them. Like many of the Chinese in the railroad's employ, Fong only understood a handful of English words, but he could read the angry expression on O'Rourke's face very clearly. "We've got a schedule to keep, so get up right now! Chop-chop!" He slapped his meaty hands together violently.

Fong tried to tell O'Rourke what was the matter, but the man had him so flustered, he couldn't think of the proper words in English. Instead, he made a cupping gesture with his hands and raised them to his lips. In response, O'Rourke slapped Fong's hands back down, saying, "It ain't lunchtime yet, you little slant-eyed bugger! Now _get up_!" He went to grab the two of them and haul them up, but Fong pushed O'Rourke away, wrapping his arms protectively around his friend, which didn't please their boss at all. He kicked the Chinaman, yelling at him to get on his feet that instant, while the other workers continued on with their jobs, sparing only the briefest of glances their way so as to not incur O'Rourke's wrath as well.

Then something hit O'Rourke square in the back, hard enough to send him sprawling in the dirt beside the two Chinamen. "Who the Hell did that?" he said as he turned over, itching to throttle whichever coolie had attacked him. But when he looked up, he saw a white man on horseback, casually slipping his dusty boot back into the stirrup. Between the noise of the hammers and O'Rourke's haze of anger, he hadn't heard the man ride up.

"Ain't no reason tuh be treatin' them fellas like thet," the man said.

"And you ain't got no reason to be kickin' me in the back." O'Rourke climbed to his feet, glaring at the newcomer. Whoever he was, he certainly was an ugly cuss: though his face was partly hidden by the Confederate officer's hat he wore, what O'Rourke could make out looked like it wouldn't be out of place on a church gargoyle. "Why don't you get a move-on before I decide to make both sides of your face match?"

The man said nothing, but then his left hand came up fast as lightning and reached across his waist, towards the ivory-handled Dragoon tucked under his belt. O'Rourke's eyes widened and he stumbled back, but then he saw the hand pass over the gun and continue on behind the man, and when he brought it back, he was holding a battered canteen, which he promptly tossed at Fong. The Chinaman caught it and, amidst many expressions of thanks in his native tongue, uncorked it and began to pour the water down Jin's throat.

"Not so fast, yuh'll drown him," the man said, then turned his scarred visage towards O'Rourke. "Workin' out here in the hot sun day after day, an' yuh ain't never seen a man with heatstroke afore?" Before O'Rourke could reply, the man spurred his horse and continued on.

O'Rourke watched him go, then realized how quiet it had gotten. He turned around to see most of the workers standing there, stunned to see their loudmouthed boss put in his place by the gray-clad stranger. He waved a hand at them, shouting, "This ain't no stage show, dammit! Get back to work!"

"Jackass," Jonah Hex muttered under his breath as he rode parallel to the rail line. He considered turning around and adding a few more boot-prints to the man's backside, then dismissed it. His destination was in sight, and he'd already wasted enough time following that false lead on his quarry. This time, however, he was quite sure he was on the right track.

The town of Tanglewood hadn't been much to look at in its early days, but now that the railroad was rolling right up to its doorstep, the place seemed to have grown overnight. It was a lovely spot of civilization in the middle of nothing, offering just about anything a wandering heart could desire. For Hex, that desire was simply to find Big Dan Willis, collect the bounty on said man, then grab a bite to eat and retire to a room that was hopefully free of bedbugs. The sooner he took care of the first two, the sooner he could see about the last two. Catching sight of a saloon, Hex dismounted out front and tied his reins to the hitching post. The way his luck ran, he'd have to hit every damn watering hole in town before he came across Willis, but he had to start somewhere.

Jonah entered the saloon, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible as he scanned the room. A man played piano in the corner, the music mingling with the patrons' voices and the sound of glasses clinking about until it all became just a wall of noise. Girls in low-cut dresses fawned over half-drunk men as a young Chinese man scuttled about, cleaning up after the white customers. _Reckon he wasn't lucky enough tuh get a job on the rails_, the bounty hunter thought sarcastically as he rolled a cigarette, never taking his eyes off the room as he did so. He watched the Chinaman go about with his bucket and rag from one mess to another, slipping between people like the star of some busboy ballet, until one man stood up a mite too fast and jostled the Chinaman right into the neighboring table, where a card game had been in progress. Drinks, cards and poker chips flew everywhere, the majority of them landing on the poor Chinaman as he plunked down on the floor. The men at the table leapt to their feet, cursing and threatening him with bodily harm, but unlike before, Jonah didn't intervene, he merely hung back and continued to smoke as he watched the room. Then he saw that one of the card players, whose back had been to Hex previously, had a very familiar face. He took a final drag on his cigarette, crushed it beneath his boot, and strolled on over.

"I had a full house, you clumsy slant-eye!" the man was saying as he started to reach for the Chinaman, but he stopped and turned around when he felt Hex tap him on the shoulder.

"Howdy, Willis...remember me?" Jonah said, then belted the man across the jaw, sending him flying into another table, the other patrons backing away from the fracas as quickly as possible. "Thet's fer pepperin' muh coat with a load of buckshot o'er in Santa Fe," the bounty hunter informed Willis as he took hold of the man, then slammed a fist into his gut. "This here's fer tellin' thet whore tuh send me in the wrong damn direction."

Willis spat on him, saying, "That was my _sister_, you mule-faced sonovabitch."

"Like Ah said," Jonah quipped, then threw Willis towards the bar, cracking the man's head against the mahogany front. "An' thet's fer...aw, Hell, Ah'll think of something later." Jonah grabbed Willis by the collar and nodded with satisfaction when he saw the man was out cold. He looked up at the bartender and asked, "Y'all got a sheriff 'round here?"

"S-s-south on Main, two blocks," he replied.

"Much obliged." Jonah touched a finger to the brim of his hat, then hoisted the unconscious Willis over his shoulder and headed out of the saloon. The noise level in the place didn't rise back to normal until he was well out of sight, and even then, all the chatter seemed to be focused on what had just occurred. Only the Chinaman, however, dared to walk over to the door and watch Hex as he went down the street to the sheriff's office, and he didn't stop watching until the bartender ordered him to start cleaning up the mess.

* * *

Later, as the sun began to set, a discussion was held in one of the shanties on the edge of Tanglewood. The majority of the Chinese who worked for the railroad lived there, for while the _gwailo_ had no problem with using them for cheap labor, they certainly didn't want these strange Celestials living amongst the white population like equals. So the Chinese made do like they always had, fashioning shacks out of whatever materials they could and relying on each other for what they needed. It was far from the best arrangement, but they had little choice in the matter.

There were some Chinese, however, who knew that their people's normally-reserved nature could very well be their undoing. Thus did three of the elder Chinese sit together that night to discuss the precarious situation. One of them, Mei Xiao-Ping, was well-respected by all in the shantytown, and consulted often on matters of great importance. He and the other two elders spoke at great length that evening, interrupted only by Mei Ling, Xiao-Ping's daughter, who would bring them a fresh pot of tea when it was needed. They discussed the many wrongs visited upon them by the _gwailo_: the lack of respect, the physical abuse, the meager wages that were occasionally reduced further without reason, or even not paid at all. It all seemed to take the shape of a vast mountain before them, daunting in its scope and completely impassible.

Then one of the elders mentioned something that his son had told him: earlier in the day, he'd been rescued in the saloon by a strange-looking man dressed in gray, who had beaten up a _gwailo _that was threatening the young Chinese. This man, who had a face like a demon, was spoken about with both fear and respect by his fellow whites, and even appeared to be on the side of the law. The second elder nodded in agreement at this, saying he'd also heard from many of their people about a demon-faced man in gray coming to the defense of Chinamen, in this case out by the rail line.

Once they had finished telling their tales, Xiao-Ping sat back and stroked his thin beard, lost in thought. Perhaps this was the answer to their problems: a strong, sympathetic man who could act on behalf of the Chinese, and who had the ability to make the _gwailo_ listen to him. As Mei Ling set down another pot of tea, Xiao-Ping spoke of his intentions to go to this man and plead their case. The other two men agreed: of the three elders, his English was best, so he seemed the wisest choice. Now they just had to hope he could find the words to persuade the man in gray.

* * *

Jonah Hex lay on his bed in the Grand Hotel, his boots off and his belly full. Capturing Big Dan Willis had brought him a decent payday - four hundred dollars - and he'd celebrated with a nice juicy steak and a bottle of good whiskey. He figured on resting in Tanglewood for a day or two before picking out some new owlhoot from the wanted posters in the sheriff's office, but for now, the only thing he was hunting was a good night's sleep. Blowing out the lamp on the bedside table, Jonah tucked his hands behind his head and closed his eyes.

His eyes flew open five minutes later when he heard someone coming up the stairs at a fast pace - not running, but definitely with a sense of purpose. He got up and, grabbing one of his Dragoons, pressed himself flat against the wall beside the door. There was a chance that he was getting keyed up over nothing, but he'd been in too many situations where "nothing" had turned out to be a big something, and he wasn't about to totally relax just yet.

Sure enough, the footsteps stopped outside his door, followed by a swift knock. "Who is it?" Jonah said, pointing his gun at the door.

"It's Jenkins, Mr. Hex, from the front desk. There's someone downstairs to see you."

"Why don't they come on up themselves?"

"Well...frankly, sir, the management here doesn't allow Chinese on the premises. I'm really not even supposed to let them in the lobby, but..."

"Chinese?" Jonah echoed. "Ah don't know any Chinese."

"That may be, sir, but he's asking for you just the same. I think he wants to hire you."

Hex's brow furrowed, then he said, "Tell him Ah'll be down in a minute." He lowered his gun, then put his boots and coat back on. He had to admit, he was intrigued by the notion, but he couldn't imagine why a Chinaman would want to hire him. _Maybe some fella ain't paid his laundry bill in a while_, he thought as he strapped his gunbelt on.

He left his room, and as he was halfway down the stairs, he spotted an old Chinese man standing near the hotel door, close enough to it that Jenkins could hustle him outside if the manager came by. "Y'all wanted tuh see me?" Jonah said as he walked over to him.

The Chinaman bowed slightly, saying, "Good evening, Mr. Hex. My name is Mei Xiao-Ping. I have heard very much about you."

"Everybody does, it seems," he replied. "There a reason fer this social call, Mister Ping, or did y'all just want tuh impress yer friends by sayin' yuh met me?"

"Mister Mei, if you please," he gently corrected. "And yes, I am here for a very good reason. I wish to ask your assistance in a matter of injustice." The old man seemed to draw himself up a bit straighter as he said, "For many years, my people have suffered at the hands of yours. I have been informed that you witnessed some of this suffering very recently."

"Ah've seen muh fair share."

"Then you know what I speak of. My people have endured much, with little in return. We have toiled long and hard for a reward that always eludes us, yet our desire for that reward does not diminish."

"Muh heart bleeds fer yuh," Jonah said flatly. "Don't see whut one bit of this has tuh do with me, though."

"We want to end this suffering, Mr. Hex. We want to be given the rights and the respect that we deserve...and we want you to help us achieve that."

"_Me? _Who the Hell do yuh think Ah am? President Grant?" he scoffed. "Yo're barkin' up the wrong tree, mister, if'n yo're lookin' fer somebody tuh fix all yer woes."

Undeterred by his reaction, Xiao-Ping said, "I know it is a difficult task, and it cannot be achieved overnight, but with a man of authority like you representing us - one who believes in our cause - we could finally make our voice heard."

Hex narrowed his eyes at the man. "Do y'all even know whut Ah _do_ fer a livin'?"

"You are a hunter of men. You uphold the law by bringing those who break it to justice."

"Thet's right...an' Ah don't do it fer free, neither, so unless yuh got a few hunnert dollars stashed under them pajamas," Jonah said, pointing at the simple Chinese garments Xiao-Ping wore, "we ain't got business."

"But...but we do not have that sort of money. My people barely make enough to survive from day to day. _That _is why we need your help."

"Whut y'all need is tuh grow a spine. Every Chinese Ah've ever seen gets spooked the second a fella raises his voice, an' thet's half yer damn problem." He hitched his thumbs on his gunbelt and said, "If'n yuh want respect, yuh gotta _earn_ it, an' yuh sure as Hell ain't gonna earn it by hidin' behind somebody else. Ah'm sorry, mister, but Ah ain't the fella yo're lookin' fer."

Xiao-Ping stood there silently for a moment, then said, "No, it appears that you are not. Forgive me for burdening you with our troubles, Mr. Hex." He bowed to Jonah once more, then turned and walked out of the hotel.

As the Chinaman left, Jenkins let out a chuckle from his place behind the front desk. "Whut's so damn funny?" Hex said to him.

"The whole idea of it," Jenkins replied. "A coolie trying to hire a white man? What was he gonna have you do, guard the laundry?"

Hex was about to tell the man to shut his pie-hole, then stopped when he recalled that similar thoughts had gone through his own mind before coming down. With a grunt, the bounty hunter went back up the stairs to his room. Once he got there, however, it took him some time before he could nod off to sleep.

* * *

The next day, O'Rourke and some of his men were standing outside the canvas tent that served as a field office for the railroad crew. They'd been shooting the breeze when one of them nudged O'Rourke, saying, "Looks like something's up, Sam."

O'Rourke turned to where his man was pointing to see an old Chinaman walking the length of the track, saying something very loudly in Chinese to the workers as he passed them. Many would pause briefly, then turn back to their tasks, but some of them would lay down their hammers or other tools and begin following the old man - by the time he reached the tent, there were well over a dozen men behind him.

"What's all this about?" O'Rourke said as he stepped towards the old man. "Why in blazes are you stirring up the workers? We've got a schedule to keep, dammit!"

"You schedule will not be met, unless you give my people what they ask for," Mei Xiao-Ping said. "We are men, and we ask to be treated with respect, and to be properly paid for the work we perform. Most of all, we ask for dignity, and we expect to get it before one more inch of track is laid." When he finished, the workers behind him let up a shout, some raising their fists in the air and shaking them at their boss.

While the other railroad men looked concerned over the display, O'Rourke simply stood there, hands in his pockets, and after a minute or so, he calmly stepped forward and said, "Alright, that's enough! Quiet down now." Then he turned to Xiao-Ping. "So, it sounds like we've got some things to settle up before we can get back to work."

Xiao-Ping looked the larger man in the eye and silently nodded.

"Okay then...hey, Pat!" he called to one of his men, who came running over. "Why don't you and the other boys go in the tent and fetch Smith and Wesson. I think they're just who we need to help settle this matter."

Pat looked confused. "We ain't got nobody named..." he started to say, then O'Rourke held up a hand.

"In the tent," he insisted. "Sitting on a trunk next to my desk...you get me?"

"Yeah...yeah, I gotcha!" Pat grinned, then walked over to the tent, waving to the other men to follow.

"Okay, fellas, listen up!" O'Rourke said to the Chinamen gathered before him. "I want all of you to stand in a nice line facing the tent so Smith and Wesson can get a good look at you when they come out. Make a real nice impression, y'know?" After a bit of coaxing, they began to do as he asked, and when O'Rourke was satisfied, he smiled and stepped away from them, saying, "That's perfect. Pretty as a picture, you are."

Xiao-Ping frowned and looked towards the tent, wondering why no one had come out yet. Then he saw O'Rourke's men step through the flap...and then he saw the guns. He started to turn around, telling his people to scatter, but it was too late: the railroad men brought up their rifles and revolvers, leveled them at the neat line of Chinamen, and fired. Screams rang out with the shots as the workers tried to flee, only to be shot in the back before they could get out of range. Some of the Chinese still at the tracks ran over to help, the chaos of the scene overriding logic, and they too were cut down by O'Rourke and his men.

As the shooting ceased, a thick, whitish cloud of gunsmoke drifted over the area, obscuring the carnage. O'Rourke strode purposefully through it, pausing briefly to examine the bloodied bodies sprawled on the ground before him until he found Xiao-Ping, badly wounded but still alive. "Did you really think you were the first Chink to get uppity on me?" he growled at the old man, then cocked the hammer back on his Smith & Wesson revolver, which Pat had fetched for him. "The railroad pays me well to keep the line moving, no matter what obstacles get in the way...so believe me when I tell you this ain't personal."

One final gunshot was heard, followed by O'Rourke yelling at the remaining Chinese, "The next time one of you thinks about talkin' back or slackin' off, you'd best remember this, 'cause I sure as Hell won't hesitate to do it again!"

Three miles away, the residents of Tanglewood went about their business, most of them thinking that the rumble they'd heard coming from the direction of the railway camp had merely been dynamite charges going off.

* * *

"Yuh got a problem there, boy?"

"N-n-no, sir." The barber stood beside Hex with a straight razor in his hand. He'd already given the bounty hunter a trim, and was now halfway through the shave, but he'd become too intimidated by the task before him to finish. "It's just that...I mean, I...I would hate to...you know..."

"Do yuh honestly think a little slip with thet razor's gonna make things any worse?" Jonah turned his soaped face so that the hole where his right cheek used to be was more prominent. "Hell, if'n yuh improve it enough, Ah might actually tip yuh."

The comment did nothing to bolster the man's confidence, but with a gulp, he continued on anyways. He was nearly done when a young Chinese woman banged open the door to the barber shop, startling him so bad that he nicked Hex's ear. The bounty hunter cursed and sat up in the chair, but before he could check to see how bad the cut was, the woman came up and slapped the good side of his face. "You killed him!" she said, then struck him again. "You told him to do it and _you killed him_!"

"Dammit, woman, whut are yuh goin' on about?" Jonah grabbed her wrist as she came in for another blow, then shoved her back so hard that she fell to the floor. "Ain't bad enough thet Ah'm bleedin'," he muttered, tearing off the towel draped over his front and using it to wipe off the shaving soap. "Now Ah've got tuh deal with some fool China girl thet's gone out of her head." He got out of the chair and stood over her, saying, "Whut's yer beef, anyhow? Ah shoot some fella y'all was sweet on?"

"My father. You killed him...you..." She stared down at the floor and started crying, arms hugging her chest.

"Stop thet...Ah said _stop_." He pulled her to her feet, his fingers digging into her slim arm. "Listen tuh me: Ah ain't killed no Chinamen, so whoever yer father was, Ah'm not..."

"His name was Mei Xiao-Ping," she said haltingly. "You spoke with him last night...told him to deal with the _gwailo_ bosses himself, and now he...he's..." The tears took over again, and she leaned against Jonah's chest. The bounty hunter was too stunned to do anything but put his arms around her as she sobbed. Then he noticed the barber still standing there, staring at them. "Get out," Jonah growled at him.

"_Me_? B-but this is _my _shop. You're..."

Hex's face darkened as he said, "If'n yuh don't, Ah'm gonna take thet razor an' make us look like twins, yuh savvy?" The barber did indeed savvy, and beat a hasty retreat into the back room as Hex guided the woman over to the chair. "Whut's yer name, sugar?" he asked.

She took a moment to compose herself, then said, "Mei Ling."

"Okay, Mei Ling, tell me whut happened."

Slowly, the details of the massacre came out - one of the workers who'd witnessed it firsthand had told her, just as others had spread word about it amongst all the Chinese in the shantytown. "My father was a peaceful man," she said once she'd finished. "He never would have provoked the _gwailo_ if you hadn't told him it was the only way to make them listen."

"Ah didn't tell him tuh provoke nobody. Ah said him an' the other Chinese weren't never gonna earn any respect if'n they didn't..." Jonah paused, reflecting on his choice of words the previous night: _Whut y'all need is tuh grow a spine...thet's half yer damn problem_. He turned his face away from Mei Ling, saying quietly, "Ah didn't mean it like thet, Ah swear."

"If that is not what you meant, then why did you say it?"

He didn't have a good answer for her, so instead he asked, "Does the sheriff know 'bout this yet?" She shook her head, and he told her, "Then Ah'll go talk tuh him. Probably won't take muh word fer it since Ah wasn't there, so y'all go on home an' find some of yer folks thet're willin' tuh speak up on the matter. Kin yuh do thet fer me, sugar?"

"Yes...yes, I can." Mei Ling got up from the chair, then paused at the door long enough to say, "And thank you."

Once Mei Ling had left the barber shop, Jonah turned his attention to the mirror hanging behind the chair. There were still a few unshaven whiskers on the right side of his jaw, not to mention a streak of blood running down his neck from the cut on his earlobe. He picked up the towel again and wiped the blood away, then dug a coin out his pocket and laid it on the barber chair. "The job yuh did ain't worth two bits," he called towards the back room as he went to leave, "but Ah reckon Ah owe yuh thet much fer all the ruckus."

* * *

Since the sheriff was already aware of Hex's reputation, with him having hauled Big Dan Willis into the man's office the previous day, Jonah figured that he could at least talk the sheriff into writing up a bounty for O'Rourke and the other railroad men. This, of course, was presuming that the sheriff didn't go out and haul them in for murder himself. The sheriff's actual response to the whole matter, however, was far from what Jonah expected: the lawman gave him a bored look from behind his desk and said, "So?"

Jonah somehow managed to keep his composure as he replied, "So there's a half-dozen skunks walkin' around this town thet think they kin get away with gunnin' down twenty men! Whut's tuh stop 'em from pullin' leather on anybody else thet rubs 'em the wrong way?"

"Don't you think you're blowing this a bit out of proportion?" The sheriff leaned forward and clasped his hands together on the desk. "I'm not saying that Mr. O'Rourke can act with impunity around here, but we're only talking about Chinamen. It's not like he shot up the saloon. I'm sure that he had a good reason for disciplining..."

"Since when is killin' unarmed folk considered 'discipline'?"

The sheriff flinched back at the harshness of Jonah's voice, then said, "Mr. Hex, you've only heard about one side of the incident...and that was from someone who wasn't even there, if I understand you correctly. Did you think to check with O'Rourke before storming in here?"

"Ah didn't have tuh. From whut Ah've seen of him, he strikes me as the sort thet wouldn't think twice 'bout shootin' a Chinese."

"So you don't actually _know_ if he did."

"Yuh callin' me a liar, boy?"

"Look, let me make it clear to you," the sheriff said as he got up from his chair. "Before the railroad came along, Tanglewood was little more than a livery and a whorehouse. But that's changed now, and the people that live here are very grateful for those changes, which means that they're very grateful for the railroad. It's brought a new life to this place, and I'm sure they'd be very, _very _upset with anyone that came along and tried to disrupt that new life." He came around the desk and stood toe-to-toe with Jonah. "Sam O'Rourke is the representative out here for the rail company, which means if I hauled him in, the work on the railroad would most likely grind to a halt. If that happened, then all that extra revenue the railroad's bringing to town would _also_ grind to a halt. Now, under any circumstances, losing the railroad's money would have the townsfolk in an uproar...but under the circumstances you're describing?" The sheriff shook his head, saying, "No one in this town would sacrifice all that just for the sake of a few dead Chinamen."

Hex's eyes narrowed. "Wonder if them folks would change their minds if'n they knew their town was bein' built on corpses?"

"Whatever you're thinking of doing, _forget it_." He pointed a finger at Hex. "If you interfere with the railroad in any way, I swear that..."

Quick as a rattlesnake, Jonah grabbed the sheriff's extended finger and bent it backwards until it snapped. "Ain't polite tuh point," Jonah said, then left the office as the sheriff fell to his knees, holding his broken hand.

* * *

Though Mei Ling had tried as hard as she could, she'd only managed to persuade three of the workers to speak up about what they had witnessed. The fear of further retribution had silenced the rest, as least as far as speaking to other _gwailo _about it was concerned. Now, Mei Ling and the three workers were sitting in the one-room shack she had shared with her father, waiting for Jonah Hex to show up with the sheriff. She did her best to hide her grief from the others, even though it felt like it was consuming her heart like fire. The only thing that helped was the thought that the killers would be brought to justice - like her father, she tried to always follow the peaceful path, but she knew those men could not be allowed to hurt anyone else.

There was a knock on the shack's door, and Mei Ling jumped. The workers tried to hide their nervousness as she opened the door, but to their dismay, they saw only Jonah Hex standing on the other side, hat in hand. "Ah'm sorry, Mei Ling, but the sheriff ain't comin'," the bounty hunter said. "Reckon now I see whut yer father was gettin' at."

The workers behind her asked in Chinese what was going on, and she told them, surprised at the calmness of her voice. She then said to Jonah, "Thank you for trying, Mr. Hex. It...it was very kind of you." She bowed slightly to him, then began to close the door, only to have it blocked by Jonah's hand.

"Yo're gonna give up on this, ain'tcha?" he asked her. "Yuh cain't let them get away with this, sugar. Yuh've gotta fight."

Mei Ling could feel her facade of calm cracking at his words, and tears began to flow again as she said, "We have seen what happens when we fight, and it solves _nothing_. What will more fighting do other than cause more of us to die?"

"Whut if y'all weren't the ones doin' the fightin'?" He pushed the door open the rest of the way and stepped inside the shack. "Yer father thought thet somebody like me could make the railroad men listen tuh yer demands, but Ah thought y'all would be better off doin' thet yerselves." Jonah paused, took a deep breath, then said, "Ah was wrong, an' I want tuh help y'all fix this mess."

"But you said the sheriff..."

"Tuh Hell with the sheriff. It's only O'Rourke thet we need concern ourselves with. If'n y'all back down now, after whut he did, yuh'll never have a moment's peace. Tomorrow, me an' him is gonna have a little chat, see if'n maybe Ah kin get him tuh meet some of yer demands." Jonah scratched at his chin, then said, "Of course, like Ah told yer father, Ah don't work fer free...be bad fer muh reputation if'n Ah started doin' things like thet. Ah'm gonna have tuh charge yuh fer all this help."

Mei Ling appeared crestfallen as she told him, "It may be some time before we can pay you anything. Most of the workers make about ten cents a day...and that's only when the _gwailo_ bother to pay them."

"Ten cents a day, eh? Sounds like a fair rate, under the circumstances." Mei Ling looked at Jonah in confusion, and he explained, "Ain't no rule thet says Ah cain't take a pay cut. If'n y'all only make ten cents a day, then Ah'll charge yuh the same."

The workers stared at Hex in shock after Mei Ling translated the conversation for them. A white man willing to work as cheaply as a Chinaman? The fact that he was going to help them was incredible enough, but this new piece of information was almost unbelievable. They came up to him, talking animatedly in Chinese and trying to shake his hand, but Jonah got a sour look on his face and said to Mei Ling, "Call 'em off, will yuh? Ah ain't even done nothin' yet!"

* * *

Sam O'Rourke walked the length of the track, satisfied by the sight of dozens of Chinamen silently going about their work. None of them so much as lifted their head as he passed by, but if they had, O'Rourke would have simply patted the revolver holstered at his side to remind them of what he said yesterday. It wouldn't be very practical to keep shooting the workers, of course, but if that's what he had to do to keep a sense of order around here, then dammit, that's what he would do.

He was heading up the track in the general direction of the field office when he saw one of his men running towards him, a panicked look on his face. He skidded to a stop before O'Rourke, gasping for breath and pointing back the way he came. "What the Hell's going on? Spit it out!" O'Rourke said.

"There's...a guy...told..." The man took a few deep breaths, then managed to get out, "A guy with a gun...drove us out of the office. Told us not to come back in without you."

O'Rourke cursed under his breath, then started to run himself. He saw Pat and some of his other men standing a good distance away from the tent, and he yelled at them, "You idiots let _one man_ scare you off?"

"You ain't seen him yet," Pat replied, a hand rubbing the bruise forming on his jaw.

O'Rourke pushed past them and headed for the tent, his gun now drawn. He nudged the flap aside with the barrel, saying, "I'm coming in, so don't try anything."

"Wouldn't dream of it," a voice answered, and O'Rourke soon saw Jonah Hex sitting behind the sawbuck table that served as a desk, his feet propped up on it as he leaned back in O'Rourke's chair. Jonah had even helped himself to one of O'Rourke's good cigars, and he blew smoke towards the man as he said, "Wish Ah could say it's a pleasure tuh see yuh again, but it ain't."

"What are you doing here? Come to kick me in the backside again when I'm not looking?" He stalked up to Hex, his gun pointed directly at him. "Get out of here before I decide to splatter your brains all over the canvas."

"Do yuh really want tuh try thet? 'Cause Ah promise yuh, y'all won't even live long enough tuh regret it." Jonah's hand drifted as easy as you please down to his own revolver. "As yuh kin see, Ah ain't no unarmed Chinaman."

O'Rourke kept his gun up for a few more seconds, then slowly let it drop. He normally wasn't the sort of man to back down, but the cold look in Hex's eyes unnerved him. "Who are you, anyways? And why do you got such a bug up your butt about how I treat my workers?"

"Ah'm not too fond of seein' folks get pushed around, thet's all. Now normally, Ah wouldn't get so deeply involved in other people's affairs, but from whut Ah've seen of how things work 'round here, there ain't nobody else thet's gonna." He took another drag on the cigar, blowing smoke rings with the air of a man who didn't just have a gun trained on his head. "So Ah said tuh muhself, 'Jonah boy, yuh kin spare a bit of time tuh teach these jackasses some manners. Ah'm sure they kin be downright reasonable once yuh get tuh know 'em.'" There was a faint smile on his face as he said, "An' seein' as how Ah'm gonna be representin' yer workers fer the time bein', Ah reckon the two of us is gonna get tuh know each other real well."

"Like Hell we will. I don't have time for this nonsense, I've got a railroad to build."

"Yuh want it built, Ah suggest yuh _make_ the time." Hex gestured towards the tent flap, saying, "All's them Chinamen want is a fair wage an' no more abuse, an' Ah'm gonna be hangin' around here every damn day tuh be sure they get both."

"And what if I don't give it to them?"

"Then they walk off the job, plain an' simple. An' if'n yerself or one of yer men harms even one of 'em in retribution, Ah swear thet Ah'll make the whole lot of yuh suffer fer it."

"Is that a threat?"

Hex swung his feet off the desk and leaned forward in the chair. "Do Ah _look _like the sort of man thet stops at threats?" O'Rourke didn't answer, but Hex could see in the man's eyes that he most certainly understood. The bounty hunter nodded in satisfaction and said, "Now then, how about yuh take a seat? We've got some negotiatin' tuh do."

* * *

This whole situation wasn't the sort that Jonah was used to finding himself in. Normally, all that was required of his services was a fast gun and nerves of steel, not going back and forth over increasingly-fine points in a contract. But he told Mei Ling and the other Chinese that he'd do his best to help, so that's what he did, talking to O'Rourke until Jonah wondered if his tongue might unhinge and fall out of his mouth. He also wondered how in blazes people actually managed to do stuff like this for a living - the thought that every lawyer, politician, and businessman must eventually go mad from constantly prattling on like this crossed his mind more than once.

After they'd hammered out a deal (and he was relatively sure the railroad men would stick to it), Hex paid another visit to Mei Ling, and soon found himself talking at ridiculous length again, this time with the two Chinese elders Mei Xiao-Ping had met with before his death. They wished to know the details of the deal Jonah had struck on behalf of their people, so he laid it out for them: double their previous wages, along with payment of any money that had been withheld from them over the past few months. Unfortunately, none of this would be immediate, as O'Rourke claimed that his coffers were empty, and the money would have to be sent to them from the rail company's headquarters back east. Jonah thought it was a damned lie, and said so, but he was willing to give O'Rourke the three weeks it would supposedly take for the payroll to reach them. After that, Jonah promised he would perform the task he was better suited to and bust some heads until the money turned up. The elders were pleased to hear the news...or at least, Mei Ling told Hex that they were. Since their knowledge of English was a bit spotty - and Hex didn't know one iota of Chinese - she served as translator during the meeting, filling in the parts that one party or the other didn't understand.

Over the course of the next couple of weeks, Jonah's schedule varied little: he'd spend the day out by the rail line, riding his horse at a slow walk up and down the length of it as he made sure O'Rourke and his men kept their word about no longer harassing the Chinamen. There would be the occasional incident between the two groups, but Hex defused them easily enough, and everything would go back to normal. Despite O'Rourke's predictions to the contrary, work didn't slow down in the least - in fact, some of the Chinamen seemed to be working even harder now that they didn't have that constant cloud of fear hanging over their heads - but that didn't stop O'Rourke from throwing Hex a glare every time they passed by each other.

When work was over for the day and the Chinamen made their way back to the shantytown, Jonah would accompany them, just in case the railroad men decided to pull something on the sly. Once he was assured that all was well, he would speak briefly with Mei Ling and the elders, to let them know how things were progressing. At first, this constant reporting annoyed him - he didn't think it was necessary, as very little changed from day to day, but the elders insisted on it - but he soon found himself looking forward to it just so he could see Mei Ling. Though they rarely said a word to one another that didn't concern the business with the railroad, the sound of her voice gave Jonah a feeling that he hadn't experienced in a long time, as did the soft touch of her hand against his when she would give him a cup of tea. It struck him as strange that Mei Ling would make him feel that way, since he was reasonably sure his heart had turned into a dead lump of muscle in his chest years ago. He still experienced lust, of course, and wasn't above spending a few dollars at a whorehouse every month or so to quell that age-old urge, but this most certainly wasn't lust he was feeling.

Trouble was, he didn't _want _to feel like this: he'd become quite contented with the notion of being on his own for the rest of his life, thank you very much, and didn't need to complicate things by becoming attached to some woman. Which is probably why Jonah was rather surprised to find himself lingering outside Mei Ling's home one evening. The elders had already left, and Hex had been in the process of leaving as well, but just couldn't bring himself to take up his horse's reins and actually get moving. He stood beside the animal, one hand on its neck, as his brain tried to override the impulses coming from his very-much-alive heart, until the horse got tired of its master's indecision and nudged him back a step with its nose. "Y'all ain't helpin'," he said to it, to which the horse replied with a snort. Jonah snorted himself, then turned away from the horse and went over to the door of the shack.

The door was partway open, and Jonah could see Mei Ling clearing away the cups on the low table in the center of the shack's single room - her back was to him, and his eyes lingered on the delicate curve of her neck, then slid down the simple Oriental dress she wore, all the while the unwanted feelings inside him growing stronger. Then she turned around, giving out a small gasp when she saw him in the doorway. "I'm sorry, Mr. Hex, I thought you had left," she said. "Is something the matter?"

Jonah stepped into the shack, fumbling with his hat as he did so. He held it close to his chest, looked down at it, rolled the edge of the brim beneath his fingers...basically anything he could think of to do that didn't involve talking. Finally, he came up with something reasonably innocuous to say: "Y'all had any supper yet?"

She hesitated a moment before replying, "No, not yet."

More brim-rolling, then he said, "Kin yuh...Ah mean, _would _yuh like tuh have supper with me? Ah ain't talkin' nothin' fancy or anything like thet, Ah just..." He forced himself to look at her. "Ah'd just like some company, thet's all."

Mei Ling said nothing, and Jonah began to wish he'd never even tried to speak with her like this. Then a small, demure smile came to her lips, and she said, "I would like that as well."

Jonah was too stunned to speak for a moment, but he managed enough rational thought to put his hat back on and offer Mei Ling his arm so he could lead her out. The two of them made their way into Tanglewood proper - there was a small restaurant within the Grand Hotel, and Jonah figured it would do just fine. When he and Mei Ling entered the lobby and began to walk towards the restaurant area, however, Jenkins popped out from behind the front desk. "I'm sorry, Mr. Hex, but you know the rules," he said as he stepped in front of them.

To tell the truth, Jonah's mind had been so focused on Mei Ling that the hotel's rule about no Chinese on the premises had been briefly forgotten. He wasn't about to admit that, though, and said to Jenkins, "We're just goin' tuh get a bite tuh eat, whut's the harm in thet?"

"I'm just doing what management told me to do, sir. You can come in, but the woman's going to have to wait outside."

"Listen, skunk, all's we want tuh do is sit down an' have a nice quiet supper, an' if'n yuh don't get out of muh way, Ah'm gonna..."

"Can I help you, sir?" The hotel manager came out of the restaurant, and behind him, more than a few diners were looking up from their meals to see what was going on in the lobby.

"Yeah, Ah'd like tuh have a word with yuh 'bout this stupid 'no Chinese' policy. Ah'm a payin' customer, dammit, Ah've got a room upstairs, an' y'all ain't got no right tuh tell me who Ah kin an' cain't invite tuh supper."

"If that's how you feel, perhaps you'd be better off checking out of this hotel," the manager replied.

The bounty hunter began to take a step forward, intent on knocking the manager flat, but Mei Ling held onto his arm and said, "It's all right, Jonah. Let's just leave."

"No, it _ain't_ all right. Ah'm sick tuh death of the way people act in this cussed town. Ah've got a good mind tuh set a match tuh the whole damn place an' be done with it."

"Jonah...please, I _want_ to leave."

His jaw set tight, his hands balled into fists, Hex didn't look like he was about to back down. But Mei Ling's words slowly overrode his rage, and he turned around to walk out of the lobby. It was a difficult thing to do, it wounded his pride, and he stayed silent as he and Mei Ling walked around town, the setting sun painting the buildings in shades of red and orange. After a while, she said to him, "It was kind of you to invite me, even if it didn't work out how you wanted."

"It ain't fittin', the way people treat yuh," Jonah replied, his face showing no emotion.

"No, it's not...but you've been helping to change that." She leaned against his arm as they walked. "I do not see any need to be violent about it, though. We already know where that path leads."

"Sometimes violence is the only thing folks understand. Y'all kin talk as sweet as yuh want tuh them, but a good right cross works better."

"But _you_ understand more than that." Mei Ling stopped walking and stood in front of him. "There is a gentleness inside you, yet you seem determined to deny its existence." She took hold of his hands, running her delicate fingers over the scars and calluses upon them, then said, "What happened to you that you would choose to live this way?"

Jonah's eyes dropped to the ground as he quietly said, "Wasn't completely by choice. Ah just...it's just how things came about. Yuh don't always get tuh decide where life takes yuh."

"Do you ever wish it had taken you somewhere else?"

"Not tonight, Ah don't." He was surprised at how easily he said that, after being so flustered before. Then he looked at Mei Ling, who didn't seem surprised at all, and took a deep breath. "Sugar, Ah...it's been a long time since Ah told a gal this, but...but Ah..." His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he tried to force the words out, but they seemed stuck. God ,when _was _the last time he'd said this? Too damn long ago, so long that doing it now was like working a rusty hinge.

To his relief, Mei Ling gave him a way out: she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him softly on the lips. That simple action freed up whatever inhibitions were holding Jonah back, and he wrapped his arms around her and picked her up off her feet, holding her close as they kissed some more. He could feel his heart swelling with emotion, just a sheer joy and passion that he hadn't felt in years, to the point where he couldn't imagine why he'd tried so hard to quash it.

Unfortunately, Jonah's attention was so fixated on Mei Ling that he never noticed the man watching them from the shadow of a nearby building. When the two of them had sated their desires long enough to continue walking, the man followed, doing his best to stay out of sight in case Hex suddenly turned around. It never happened, though, even after they made their way into the shantytown - the man stayed with them the whole time, stopping only when he saw the bounty hunter and the China girl enter one of the shacks. "So that's the way it is, eh?" the man said under his breath, then hightailed it back the way he came until he'd reached the town saloon. "Boss! Hey, boss!" he yelled as he ran up to one of the poker tables.

"Quiet, Sullivan," O'Rourke said, not even bothering to look up from his cards. "I've already lost eighteen dollars tonight, and I'm not letting these boys get another penny out of me."

"But, boss...I figured out how to get rid of Hex!"

That got O'Rourke's attention. He looked at Sullivan and said, "You'd better not be joshin'." Sullivan insisted he wasn't, and O'Rourke folded out of the game. "Now, what's all this about?" he asked once the two of them stepped away from the table.

Sullivan laid it all out for his boss, starting with the argument he'd overheard when passing by the Grand Hotel, and ending with what he saw in the shantytown. "Judgin' by the way him and that little coolie was actin' out in the open, I'd say things are gettin' pretty hot in that shack right about now, if you know what I mean," Sullivan said.

O'Rourke pulled at his bottom lip as he mulled over the information. Ever since Hex first stuck his nose into their affairs, he and the other men had tried to come up with a way to get rid of him permanently. But once they learned of Hex's reputation, none of them were willing to risk a confrontation with the man, not so long as there was a possibility of him being armed - even going after him at night up in his hotel room seemed risky, not to mention the witnesses that might crop up. However, if he was in the midst of having relations...and doing it out in that shantytown, to boot...Hell, it was too perfect to pass up. "Go round up as many of the fellas as you can find," he told Sullivan, "and meet me back here. Make sure everybody's got a firearm of some sort too. We're gonna make that ugly sonovabitch sorry he ever set foot in this town."

* * *

Despite Sullivan's innuendoes, the couple didn't jump right into bed the moment they entered the shack. Jonah did have some sense of decorum, and even though he'd passed many a night with all sorts of women, he'd never forced himself on any of them. That simply wasn't his way. As he stripped off his gunbelt and coat in between kisses, he began to notice Mei Ling's increasing hesitation. "Did yuh change yer mind 'bout me?" he asked, trying to hide the disappointment he felt.

"No, it's just..." A blush came to her cheeks. "I have never been with a man before."

Jonah tried not to laugh as he thought, _Is thet all?_ Then he said to her, "If'n yuh want tuh stop, we will. I ain't gonna make yuh do anything yuh don't want tuh."

She laid her head against his chest as they stood in the middle of the room, their arms around each other - she could hear the strong beating of his heart, feel the warmth of his body, and a sense of trust and safety came over her. "Just go slowly," Mei Ling said. "That's all."

He agreed, and they did. Whenever she hesitated again, he stopped until she told him it was okay, eventually moving to the woven mat that Mei Ling used for a bed. As she began to slip out of her dress, Jonah pulled off his longjohns, and in the flickering candlelight, she could see the dozens of scars all over his body. She'd grown used to seeing the ruin on the right side of his face, but hadn't imagined that the damage went even further than that. He caught her looking, and without a word, he gently took her hand in his, guiding her fingertips over the old wounds on his chest and belly. "Do they hurt?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Depends," was all he said, then pulled her closer to him on the mat, draping the blanket over them as he did so. Before they got much further than that, however, Jonah's body suddenly tensed, the look in his eyes going from ardor to anger in a flash. Mei Ling, fearful that she was the cause of that look, said to him, "What's wrong?"

Jonah didn't answer, he simply pushed her away and rolled out of bed, reaching for his gunbelt on the floor as he did so. He nearly had it in his grasp when O'Rourke, his own pistol already drawn, kicked the shack's door wide open. "Sorry to interrupt," the man said, then took aim at Hex and fired. Luckily, the gunfighter was already in motion, and the bullet missed him by a hair. The two men coming in behind O'Rourke, however, were able to draw a better bead on Hex, and nailed him square in the thigh and shoulder, causing him to fall to the floor. Despite the blood gushing over his bare flesh, Jonah tried to get up, only to find the muzzle of a rifle shoved in his face. All the while, Mei Ling screamed, huddled within the blanket like a child.

"Well, that was easy," O'Rourke said as he scooped up Jonah's Dragoons, tucking them beneath his own belt. "Maybe this fella's reputation ain't all it's cracked up to be."

"What about her, boss?" The other man was standing near Mei Ling and taking in the view. "Shame to let her go to waste."

O'Rourke shrugged. "If you like 'em yellow, then by all means. I think me and Pat can finish off her old beau by ourselves."

Pat laughed, turning his head slightly to watch the other man move towards Mei Ling. It was the last mistake he'd ever make: Jonah reached up and yanked the rifle out of his hands, then flipped it around and blew Pat's head off. The bounty hunter quickly cocked the lever and pointed the rifle at O'Rourke next, but the railroad man was rather quick himself, grabbing his other man and pulling him into the line of fire - instead of a roll in the hay, the letch got a hole blasted through his chest as O'Rourke darted back out of the shack. Meanwhile, Jonah limped over to Mei Ling, whose screams had deteriorated into hysteric sobbing. "It's okay, darlin', they're gone," he said, but every time he reached out to reassuringly touch her face, she recoiled from his bloodied hand.

Then they heard O'Rourke yell from outside, "Shoot the whole damn place to pieces!"

Seconds later, bullets began to pound through the flimsy walls, and Jonah threw himself over Mei Ling to protect her. The barrage went on for nearly ten seconds, then a pause came as the men outside reloaded their weapons. Jonah took advantage of it by smashing the butt of the rifle against the shack's back wall, knocking enough planks loose to make a hole, then he grabbed Mei Ling and shoved her through the opening. There wasn't much room between the shanties, but they squeezed through as best they could until they reached an alley of sorts about twenty feet away. The shooting resumed about the same time, and Jonah pulled Mei Ling close to be heard above the din, saying, "Y'all go get help, while Ah try an' take these skunks out."

"But you're already hurt!" She clutched at him, afraid to let go. "They'll kill you!"

"An' if'n they figure out we ain't in there no more, they might take it out on yer neighbors," he answered, pushing her off. "Now get movin'!" He glared at her until she began to run down the alley, away from the sound of guns, the blanket still wrapped tight around her. Once she was out of sight, Jonah leaned hard against the shanty next to him and put a hand to the small of his back - when he brought it up to his face, he saw blood, just as he expected. _Least yuh kept the bullet from goin' into Mei Ling_, he told himself, then limped off in the direction of the fight, the rifle cocked and held at the ready. _Wish Ah'd remembered tuh grab muh trousers too_, he thought. _Ah really don't want tuh die naked as a jaybird._

Gunsmoke drifted down the street as Hex peeked his head out of the alley. Down the way, he could see O'Rourke and five other men reloading their guns once more in front of what remained of the shack. "I don't hear anything," O'Rourke was saying, "we must've got him." He pointed at one of his men. "Sullivan, go poke your head in and see what's what."

As Sullivan went in, Hex took aim at O'Rourke with the rifle. Unfortunately, the slug in his own shoulder wasn't exactly helping matters, and when he fired, he only clipped the man. The ones who'd already reloaded immediately whipped around and returned fire, and Hex caught a bullet high in the chest as he let off another shot. He fell to his knees, but still managed to cock the weapon again as O'Rourke and the others advanced on him. Unfortunately, when Jonah pulled the trigger, he only heard a dull click. He cursed and swung the empty rifle at his assailants, but they batted it away easily and dragged the bounty hunter out of the alley. "Looks like I was wrong about you," O'Rourke said, one hand clutching at the bullet wound on his bicep as his men dropped Jonah at his feet. "You're pretty damn hard to kill."

"Thinkin' the same...'bout yerself," Jonah rasped, blood trickling out of his mouth.

"Kind of a shame, really. I could use a tough man like you out on the rail line; help keep the Chinks from acting up. Too bad you've got such a soft spot for 'em." He drew one of the Dragoons and aimed it at Jonah's head, saying, "Oh well, live and learn, eh?" Before he could pull the trigger, however, a small rock came sailing out of nowhere and hit O'Rourke right square in the face. He staggered back a step, more from surprise than pain, then another came at him from a different direction and glanced off the side of his head. "Who the Hell's doing that?" he yelled as both he and his men turned to look around them.

That's when they saw close to thirty Chinese - men and women, young and old - surrounding them on all sides. They'd stayed hidden when the first shots were heard, afraid of being cut down themselves, but as it progressed, many began to put aside those fears, if only to help the man who'd been so willing to help them. Some picked up rocks like others had done and threw them at the railroad men, while others brandished short planks of wood or cooking knives, waving them in the air and telling the _gwailo_ in Chinese that they'd better get out of here before things got ugly. To their credit, the railroad men didn't start shooting right away: they were simply too stunned by what was going on to remember that they were armed.

Then O'Rourke discharged the Dragoon in his hand, knocking over a young Chinaman near him. "Keep back, all of ya!" he yelled, then shoved one of his men, who was cowering behind his shotgun. "Dammit, what's the matter with you? Clear a path through 'em!"

"There's too many of 'em, boss," he replied, "and they're armed..."

"They've got sticks and rocks, you jackass!" O'Rourke knelt down and grabbed Hex by the throat. "Call 'em off, right now. They'll listen to you."

"They're human beings...not dogs," Hex said. "Could've saved yerself some trouble...learned thet afore..."

A gunshot rang out, and O'Rourke thought for a moment that his men were finally fighting back. Then he heard someone yell, "All of you, drop your weapons and put your hands in the air!" He looked up to see the sheriff approaching, rifle in hand, along with over a dozen people from town. Mei Ling was there as well, someone's coat thrown over her shoulders as she walked beside the sheriff. The railroad men did as ordered, laying their guns on the ground, and many of the Chinese lowered their makeshift weapons as well, even moving back to let the lawman through. The only holdout was O'Rourke, who didn't move an inch when the sheriff told him, "Get your hands off that man, Sam. I'm placing you under arrest."

"You're arresting _me_? Are you out of your goddam mind? Hex is the one who started this!" He shook the bounty hunter, saying, "Go on, tell him what you did! _Tell him!_"

"Any quarrel you had with him should have been taken up with _me_," the sheriff said. "But instead, you went and formed a lynch mob, then shot an unarmed, naked man full of holes. I've been letting you and your boys do what you please out by the railroad, but I can't in good conscience let you get away with murder right here in town."

O'Rourke's face twisted into a snarl. "Ain't no way I'm going to jail over some ugly, coolie-lovin' bastard," he said, then started to bring the Dragoon up, intent on shooting the sheriff. Then he felt something poke him under the chin, but before he could figure out what it was, a bullet crashed through the top of his skull as Hex pulled the trigger - while O'Rourke was busy throttling him, the bounty hunter had pulled his other Dragoon free of O'Rourke's belt. The man's body keeled backward from the force of the bullet, much to Hex's relief, as he didn't think he was in any shape to deal with all that weight falling on top of him.

The danger now gone, Mei Ling rushed forward and wrapped her arms around Jonah, who then tried to pull part of the long coat Mei Ling had been given over himself - he'd had quite enough of being naked in public for one night. "Hope yuh...didn't mind," he said to the sheriff, his voice weary. "Wasn't sure...how good a shot yuh is...with a busted finger."

"I appreciate the thought," the sheriff replied. "Makes me wish I'd listened to you a little closer a couple weeks back. Maybe I wouldn't have gotten it busted."

* * *

"The new rail boss will arrive in a week or so."

Jonah grunted in reply, his eyes on the ceiling. The bullet wounds he'd sustained were healing fine, but the doctor still wanted him confined to bed for a few days, and was keeping him in the back room of his office to make sure of it. Not the most ideal situation for a man like Hex, though having Mei Ling stop by for a visit helped lessen the sting.

"He'll be bringing along the money we're owed, as well," she continued. "Apparently, O'Rourke had never requested a cent in our favor...and according to Mr. Sullivan and some of the other men, they'd all been pocketing a good amount of the railroad budget." She shifted a bit in her chair, then said, "It's still up in the air about whether or not those men will be...sentenced."

"Hanged, yuh mean," Jonah said. "Considerin' whut they did tuh yer father, Ah figured yuh'd want 'em tuh swing."

"I wanted to see justice done, and I have in a way, but...killing those men won't really change anything."

"Pretty enlightened thinkin'. Ain't how most folks would look at it, thet's fer certain."

"And which way do you look at it?" she asked. Jonah said nothing, keeping his eyes on the ceiling, and Mei Ling reached out and touched his hand, saying, "That night we were together, you dared to show me a beautiful side of yourself...and since then, you have buried it. Is there any hope that I might see that side of you once more?"

A shadow seemed to pass over his face, then he finally turned his gaze towards her. "Ah want y'all tuh understand something, sugar. Over the years, Ah've lost more people than Ah'd care tuh talk about, an'...an' it seems tuh me thet it usually happened 'cause Ah let down muh guard in some way. Thet's why them fellas got the drop on us. Ah almost got yuh killed 'cause Ah..." His mouth twisted, and he looked away for a good long time. Then his hand clasped hers tightly, and when he looked at her again, his eyes had begun to mist over. "Ah love yuh, Mei Ling. Ah love yuh, an' Ah cain't bear the thought of losin' yuh."

Mei Ling's eyes were misting over as well, the tears soon spilling down her cheeks as Jonah strained to sit up in bed, then pulled her close to him. They remained like that for some time, arms around each other as Jonah repeated those three simple words over and over, as if realizing for the first time in his life what they meant.


	3. Till Death Do Us Part

**TILL DEATH DO US PART**

_**1871:**_

It was a quiet day in Tanglewood, which was just how the sheriff liked it. He leaned back in his office chair and perused a newspaper, glad to have the free time to do so for a change. The paper rustled softly as he straightened it out, but he soon laid it down in his lap when he heard a man step into the office. "Can I help you, mister?" the sheriff said.

"Name's Cochrane," the man replied. "I'm lookin' for a bounty hunter, calls himself Hex. You know of him?"

"All too well. He rode into town 'bout three months back, caused a Hell of a ruckus." The sheriff looked Cochrane over: he appeared rather rough-and-tumble, but then again, so did many people out West. "What's your interest in him?"

There was a pause, then Cochrane said, "A job offer. Do you know where he is?"

"Not directly. He was staying in town with a Chinese girl for a while, but the two of them left a few weeks ago." The sheriff looked down at his paper and began to fold it neatly, saying, "I know they took the stage to White Mill to catch the train there, since our spur's not..."

"He left with a girl?"

"Yeah. Figure a guy as ugly as that finds a woman to bed down with, he doesn't want to lose track of her." The sheriff smirked, looking back up at Cochrane, only to find the man was heading out of the office without a word. "Well...glad I could help," the sheriff muttered, then reopened his newspaper with a snap.

* * *

The train belched out a cloud of smoke as it pulled into the station. Workers began to appear on the platform almost immediately, both from inside the station house and off the train itself, each having their own duties to perform. After a few minutes, departing passengers joined them in milling about the platform, as did those who were waiting to get on the train themselves. Moving through the midst of it was Jonah Hex, a pair of carpetbags tucked under one arm and the other wrapped gently around Mei Ling's waist. "Where in blazes is he?" Jonah muttered as he tried to see past the crowd. "Ah told him we'd be comin' in today."

Then he heard his name called out, and he turned to see a grizzled old man walking towards them with a grin. "Hex, you ornery buzzard! Is that really you?"

"Whut's left of me, Ah reckon." Jonah let go of Mei Ling and threw and arm around the man, saying, "It's good tuh see yuh, Windy."

"You say that now that you're here, but what kept you from gettin' your ass up thisaway all them other times?" He poked a finger at Jonah's chest. "Look at you: Mister Big-Shot Bounty Hunter, roamin' all over God's green Earth, an' you can't be bothered to drop in on the one fella that taught you everything."

"Well, Ah'm here now, ain't Ah? Don't thet count fer something?"

"Dunno. I ain't even decided if'n I'm lettin' you sleep in the house yet."

Mei Ling cleared her throat, reminding Jonah of her presence. "Sorry, sugar," he said. "Mei Ling, this here's muh old scoutin' partner, Windy Taylor."

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Taylor," she said, giving him a slight bow.

"Never you mind that 'Mr. Taylor' nonsense. Folks just call me Windy." He grinned at the two of them. "This sure is a nice change from gettin' a letter from you every couple of years. Y'all plan on stickin' around for a while, or is this just a quick stopover?"

"Ain't really decided yet. We's on our way tuh San Francisco, tuh see her brother an' his family," Jonah said, putting his arm around Mei Ling's waist again. "Ah just figured we'd drop in on yuh since Cheyenne lay along the same track."

"Well, I'm glad I picked the right place to homestead, then." Windy waved a hand towards the end of the platform. "Come on, let's get away from this ruckus. We'll head on back to my place, an' I'll cook y'all up a real nice supper."

They made their way around to the side of the rail station to an empty lot, where a horse-drawn wagon sat waiting. As they approached, a dark-gray wolf suddenly jumped out of the wagon and ran over to them. Mei Ling let out a gasp, and even Jonah looked a bit apprehensive. "Oh, don't mind him," Windy said with a chuckle. "Ironjaws is as harmless as a pup...ain'tcha, boy?" He knelt down and scratched the animal behind the ears.

"It's a wolf, Windy," Jonah said. "Ain't no such thing as harmless."

"He don't _know_ he's a wolf. Found him a couple winters back, damn-near frozen, an' all his littermates dead. Reckon some hunter must've killed their mama, so I took him home. He don't even remember bein' wild." As he said that, Ironjaws tried to nip Windy's fingers, and he slapped Ironjaws sharply on the snout. "No! Bad!" he told the wolf, then looked up at the others. "Okay, so maybe he's a little wild, deep down...but that ain't much dif'rent from how you was when we met, Hex."

"Ah never tried tuh bite yer fingers off," Jonah replied as he helped Mei Ling up onto the buckboard. Windy took a seat next to her and picked up the reins, while Hex got in the back with both the luggage and the wolf - the bounty hunter kept a close eye on the animal as they made their way out of town and into open country.

"How long have you lived in Cheyenne, Windy?" Mei Ling asked after a time.

"Since afore it was here, actually. I built a little cabin up here in '33 or so, back when I was just startin' out as a trapper. Then me an' Bess - God rest her soul - we got hitched in '42, an' she settled in to take up her wifely duty. It was just the two of us 'til our boy Tod was born...quite a peaceful life, nice an' cozy." He gestured at the surrounding landscape, saying, "Then the Union Pacific decided to run that blasted line through here an' blow that peace all to Hell. They say railroads bring progress, but I think they just bring trouble."

"We've had our fill of railroads lately, Windy, so shut it," Jonah said from behind them. "Yuh always talked too damn much, anyhow."

"An' you always talked too damn little. I swear, gettin' more'n three words outta you some days was like pullin' teeth."

Mei Ling smiled and added, "He is still like that. I have never met anyone so uncomfortable with speaking."

"Ah ain't uncomfortable," Hex interjected, "Ah just don't see a point in talkin' when yuh ain't got nothin' tuh say...unlike some people." He caught Mei Ling's eye, then hitched a thumb at his old partner. "There's a reason folks call him 'Windy', yuh know."

"That's nothin' compared to what them boys at Fort Winona used to call you..."

"Not a word 'bout thet!" He thumped Windy on the back as the old man let out a guffaw.

The two men continued to snipe at each other as the wagon trundled down the rutted trail, Mei Ling doing her best to stifle a giggle now and then. A few hours after passing the outskirts of Cheyenne, Windy's homestead came into sight. The cabin he'd originally built had been added onto and refurbished many times over the past four decades, giving it a slightly piecemeal appearance. A slim plume of smoke was drifting above the roof, which wasn't unusual in and of itself...but the fact that it was coming from the side of the cabin opposite the chimney most certainly was. "Goddam it...they're at it again!" Windy said.

"Whut's all this about?" Jonah asked, trying to get a view from the back of the wagon.

"Bit of a personal squabble." They could now see a man coming around the side of the cabin and going up onto the porch, swinging an axe at everything within reach. Windy cursed again and began to pull out a rifle holstered beside him on the buckboard. "Sorry you had to witness this, ma'am," he said to Mei Ling, "but I can't just let 'em destroy my home."

"Hold on, Windy. Ah ain't about tuh risk Mei Ling gettin' caught in a firefight. Y'all pull over there an' take cover, Ah'll take care of these skunks." The bounty hunter was already preparing to jump off the wagon, which was still in motion.

"Jonah, what are you doing?" Mei Ling twisted about and tried to grab hold of him, but it was too late: he hit the ground and rolled, then began to move towards the cabin, doing his best to stay hidden in the high buffalo grass. The man on the porch had spotted the wagon, and was shouting to someone else unseen as he drew a sidearm. Jonah drew his own guns and continued to creep forward, trying to close the distance between himself and the cabin.

The man on the porch was starting to head around back the way he'd come - Jonah was still a good hundred yards away, but he deemed the distance close enough and opened fire before the man fell out of sight. A bullet clipped the man in the side, causing him to stumble before he whirled around and fired blindly Hex's way. The bounty hunter lay flat and still in the grass, listening to the man move towards him, then he popped up and let off three quick shots. Caught unawares, the man went flying back with a trio of red blooms spreading across his chest.

_Thet's one...how many more?_ he wondered as he headed towards the cabin. Before he could reach it, a second gunman appeared from around back, pistols blazing. Hex dove for cover, but he felt a shot pass through his calf for his trouble. Bleeding and cursing, he made to shoot back, only to see Ironjaws charge past him and attack the gunman - the wolf had jumped off the wagon right after Hex, and had been sneaking along behind him the whole time. Ironjaws threw its full weight at the gunman, knocking him to the ground and sinking its teeth deep into his arm. He yowled and tried to take aim at the animal with the pistol in his free hand, but Jonah blasted the gunman between the eyes before he got the chance.

"Good boy," Jonah said to the wolf, then carefully poked his head around the corner of the cabin to see a man running towards some horses nearby. Jonah let off a couple more shots, winging the man as he climbed onto his horse, but it wasn't enough to stop him from riding off. Hex cursed again and turned his attention to the cabin itself: the men had splashed kerosene across the side wall and lit it, hence the smoke, but it hadn't spread too far yet. Holstering his Dragoons, Jonah headed over to a well behind the cabin and started hauling up the bucket.

By the time he'd splashed three buckets of water over the flames, Windy and Mei Ling had come down from the road. She immediately went over and embraced Jonah, then let out a gasp when she saw the blood running down the side of his boot. "You're hurt! We need to get you to a doctor."

"It'll keep," he said. "First thing we've gotta do is douse this here fire." She was persistent, however, and finally got him to pause in his efforts long enough to tie a piece of cloth over the wound. After close to a half-hour of wetting down the cabin's exterior and smothering the flames with an old blanket, they managed to extinguish all of it. Most of the damage turned out to be superficial, though smoke had managed to seep inside the cabin, and the place had to be aired out for a while before Windy could get down to fixing the three of them supper.

"This fella named Fenrick, he's the one that's been givin' me grief," Windy told them as he fried up some sausages on the cast-iron stove. "He came around these parts not long after the railroad, an' started snatchin' up as much land as he could. Man's not stupid: he knows the town's gonna keep growin', an' that the land 'round it is gonna get more valuable. He's been harpin' at me for months, tryin' to get my little parcel here. First he was real polite 'bout it, offerin' to buy it outright, but when he realized I didn't give a damn 'bout money, he got mean. Shot my horses, poisoned my livestock...an' now he's tryin' to burn my damn house down!"

"Isn't there any sort of law enforcement in Cheyenne? Someone who can put a stop to this?" Mei Ling asked, sitting at the sawbuck table with Jonah.

"The railroad set a fella up as constable...Hart's his name. Good man, an' he's on my side, but the trouble's been we ain't had no proof." He flipped a sausage out of the skillet and onto the floor, where it was quickly scarfed down by Ironjaws laying at his feet. "I know it's been Fenrick all along - just smells like him, if'n you get my meanin' - but I ain't never been able to catch any of his boys doin' it."

"Thet's a mite surprisin'," Jonah said. "Ah would've figured between yerself an' Tod, y'all would have nailed somebody's hide tuh the wall by now."

"Tod ain't exactly been around to help," Windy replied. "Me an' the boy had a fallin' out a while back...one day, he just saddled up his horse, then decided not to come home."

"Sorry tuh hear thet." Jonah recalled from his time with Windy years ago that Tod never got along very well with his father. Windy's wife Bess had managed to defuse most of their squabbles, but she'd been dead for well over ten years, and things had probably gotten worse between the two of them since then.

"Yeah, well...at least I've still got one boy 'round here I can count on," Windy said, gesturing towards Hex. "Thanks to you, I've got two nice pieces of evidence a-layin' in my barn. Reckon I'll go into town tomorrow with them in the wagon, an' then Hart can put an end to Fenrick's schemes for good! But for now..." He put the remaining sausages on a plate and laid them on the table, along with some cornbread and a little pot of beans. "Let's put all that nonsense aside an' just enjoy a nice supper."

Jonah dug in immediately, as did Windy, but Mei Ling only nibbled at a piece of cornbread. Windy noticed her reluctance and said, "I know this is probably a lot dif'rent than Chinese fare, but it ain't all that bad once you try it."

"No, I'm sure it's very good, but I..." She appeared to be turning a mite green around the gills, and laid a hand on her belly. "I just can't right now."

"Yuh should try an' get something down, sugar," Jonah said to her. "Yuh barely ate on the train."

"I know, but...I think I need to lay down for a while." She got up from the table slowly, and Jonah immediately stood beside her to offer a steadying hand. He led Mei Ling out of the main room and down the hall to the bedroom Windy had prepared for them. It was a good ten minutes before Jonah came back, and when he did, he walked past the table and out onto the porch. After a moment, Windy went to the doorway and saw Jonah sitting on the stoop, his head down and shoulders hunched. The sun was beginning to set, bathing the whole Wyoming Territory in red-gold light, but it appeared that Jonah was ignoring all that glory in favor of gazing at the toes of his boots.

"She gonna be okay?" Windy asked, but Jonah didn't stir, he just stayed hunkered down like a guilty man awaiting his punishment. The old man stepped out onto the porch and sat down next to him, saying, "If'n she's feelin' that poorly, Doc Pedersen don't live more'n an hour from here. I can hitch the wagon back up an'..."

"Mei Ling's pregnant."

That shut Windy right up, both the information and the way Jonah said it: toneless, no hint of joy or anger or any emotion at all. Just a cold delivery of fact. Not an uncommon way of speaking for Hex, but Windy would've thought that this particular subject might elicit something a bit more lively from him. When it became obvious that Jonah wasn't going to continue this conversation unaided, Windy asked, "How far along is she?"

No response at first, then he said, "'Bout two months, give or take a week. The doc back in Tanglewood figured the baby will come 'round February."

"I take it from the way you're actin' that the whole thing kind of crept up on you."

"Thet's one way of puttin' it." Jonah rubbed the back of his neck, still staring downward. "Ah'd been gone a couple weeks on a job, an' when Ah got back, she drops the news in muh lap. She thinks it's wonderful, but muhself...some days Ah feel sicker than she does."

Windy chuckled, saying, "You ain't the first man to get scared over bein' a father."

"Ah ain't scared...Ah just would've liked some more warnin', thet's all."

That just made Windy chuckle even louder. Then he asked, "So, what's the plan?"

"Same as Ah told yuh afore: we're goin' tuh San Francisco. She's got family there thet kin help her after the baby comes."

"An' what about you? You ain't gonna be around help her?" Jonah made no reply, and Windy frowned. "You lucked into findin' a sweet girl like that, an' now you're just gonna walk away from her when she's carryin' your kid?"

Jonah finally looked up at Windy and snapped, "Whut in blazes do yuh expect me tuh do? Toss her an' the baby on a horse an' drag 'em along with me while Ah'm bounty-huntin'?"

"I expect you to do the sensible thing an' marry her!"

"Ah went down thet road once...or least Ah tried tuh...yuh know thet." Even in the waning light, the sadness in his eyes was plain to see. "After whut happened, Ah decided Ah ain't never goin' down thet road again. Ah just...it don't feel right tuh marry someone else."

"You still carry a torch for her, don't you?" Windy put a hand on the younger man's shoulder, saying, "Son, I know you loved Cassie, an' I know it damn-near killed you when she died, but I don't think she'd be very happy with you playin' the grievin' widower the rest of your life. If'n you have any love for Mei Ling at all, then you should do right by her."

"Ah _do_ love Mei Ling...took me some time tuh admit it, but Ah do."

"Okay then, now all you have to do is say them last two words in front of a preacher."

Jonah snorted. Not a full laugh, but enough to show that his mood was lightening a bit, and Windy was glad to hear it.

* * *

Around that same time, Fenrick was standing in his study, a glass of whiskey in hand as he looked over a map of the area tacked to the wall. In the center was Cheyenne, with the rail line cutting through it. Just west of town, nestled in the foothills, was a square indicating the Taylor homestead, and less than ten miles from there was Fenrick's own ranch. It was the proximity that irked Fenrick most: he'd managed to either buy out or drive away everyone else surrounding him, but Taylor refused to budge, and after the defeat that Fenrick's men suffered today, it appeared that he might have to learn to live with it. After word got around that the gunfighter who'd assisted Taylor that afternoon was Jonah Hex - not a name Fenrick was familiar with, but apparently known quite well by others - all of his men refused to have anything more to do with getting rid of the old codger. Add to that the two dead bodies now in Taylor's possession, and it looked like the war between them was well and truly over. The best Fenrick could hope for now was to lessen the damage to himself: he'd fabricated a story about firing the two dead men a week before, then sent another pair off with the injured man to camp out far from Cheyenne until things cooled off.

_If they ever do_, Fenrick thought bitterly, then drained his glass. Why couldn't that old man listen to reason and just take the damned money? Why'd he have to force Fenrick's hand? He went over to his desk and picked up the whiskey bottle. As he started to pour another glass, there was a knock on the door of his study. "Who is it?" he said, and the door opened to reveal Boone, one of the men he'd sent off. "What are doing back here?" Fenrick snapped.

"Sorry, Mr. Fenrick, but I didn't think you'd want to wait on this. Y'see, me an' the boys ran into somebody..."

"I told you to _avoid_ being seen, you moron! If anyone tracks you back here..."

"You don't understand, sir. We ran into somebody who can help us out." Boone stepped aside and ushered a young man into the study - he had a lean, hungry look to him, one hand resting on the pistol strapped to his hip.

"And who might you be?" Fenrick asked.

The young man's lips stretched into a thin smile as he said, "Tod Taylor, sir...an' I hear-tell that my pa's been givin' you a bit of trouble."

* * *

The sun was barely up when Jonah helped Windy hitch up the horse and load the canvas-wrapped bodies into the wagon. The old man wanted to get Hart on this as soon as possible, especially now that he had guests that could potentially get hurt by this squabble between him and Fenrick. Once everything was ready to go, Windy got up onto the buckboard, then saw Jonah following his lead. "Where do you think you're goin', son?" Windy said.

"Where do yuh think?" Jonah replied. "Reckon after yesterday, Ah'm tied up in this mess, too. Might as well see it through."

"An' you're just gonna leave Mei Ling all by her lonesome? Hell, she ain't even awake yet." He shook his head. "I sure hope your kid ain't as dense as you."

Jonah glared at him, then silently admitted that the man had a point, especially since there was a chance of Fenrick's men coming around again. Still, he grumbled under his breath as he got down and stood beside the wagon. Ironjaws came up then and tried to get on board as well, but Windy pushed him down, saying, "No, boy, you ain't comin' along." The wolf didn't listen, however, and Windy shouted, "I'm gonna lock you up in the barn again if'n you don't behave!"

"Ah've got him." Jonah grabbed Ironjaws by the scruff of its neck and pulled it off the wagon. The wolf growled and snapped at him, so Jonah growled right back and bit it on the ear. With a yelp, the wolf tucked its tail between its legs and cowered at Jonah's feet.

Windy almost fell off the wagon laughing. "I _knew_ you two had some things in common!" he said once he'd caught his breath. "Can only tame the two of you so far."

"Get a move-on, old man." Jonah slapped the side of the wagon, and Windy let out another laugh as he set off down the road.

It was a quiet morning in Cheyenne, and Constable J.D. Hart was in his office when Windy's wagon pulled up with its grisly cargo. There was little debate between the two men about the next step: Hart drew up the proper warrants, then he and Windy saddled up horses for the ride to Fenrick's ranch. Though Hart hadn't been a lawman for very long, Windy judged him to be a good man who took his job seriously, and more importantly, he was good with a gun - the old man hoped that they'd be able to end this without drawing any more blood, but just in case they couldn't, he was glad Hart would be there to end it quickly.

The two men were halfway to Fenrick's ranch when they saw another rider approaching. They both tensed, expecting trouble, but then Windy's eyes grew wide, and he said, "That's my boy...that's Tod!" He got off his horse and stood in the middle of the road, waving to the young man. "Tod! Where you been all this time? I thought you was never comin' back!"

Tod sidled his horse up to them, his eyes going from his father to Hart and back again. "Somebody told me 'bout how you an' Fenrick been buttin' heads," Tod said, dismounting as well. "Thought I should come back an' finally settle the score."

Windy patted his son on the shoulder, saying, "You got good timing. We was just headin' out to see Fenrick...be glad to have you beside me if'n things get rough."

"Where exactly _have _you been, Tod?" Hart asked. Something about the young man's smile - not to mention the fact that he'd rode in from the direction of Fenrick's ranch - wasn't sitting right with him. As casually as possible, Hart shifted his hand closer to his gun.

"Where he's been don't matter," Windy said. "Just be happy for the extra hand." He grinned at Tod, who threw an arm around his shoulders in a friendly gesture and pulled his father close...then drew his pistol, shoved the barrel into Windy's stomach, and fired.

As the bullet ripped through Windy and exploded out his back, Hart drew his own gun - he barely got off one shot before Tod spun and fired again, knocking the constable off his horse. Tod waited, expecting another shot from Hart, but there was no movement. "Too damn easy," the young man said, then looked down at his father's bloodied body sprawled out on the road. "I can't believe Fenrick couldn't put you away sooner." Holstering his weapon, Tod got back on his horse and headed up the road the way he'd come.

* * *

Back at the Taylor homestead, Mei Ling was doing much better after a good night's sleep, and even managed to get down some eggs that Jonah fried up for breakfast. Though he tried not to show it, he was still concerned over how poorly she'd been feeling lately - he'd heard it was normal for pregnant women to get sick to some degree, but he had no idea how sick was _too_ sick - but Mei Ling didn't seem worried in the least. In fact, once they'd finished breakfast, she insisted on picking up a little around the house while Windy was away, as a show of appreciation for letting them stay with him - it had been many years since any female had been within those walls, and it showed. Jonah tried to talk her out of it, but she had her mind set on the task, and Jonah had found over the last three months that Mei Ling could be just as bullheaded as himself. So he relented and did his best to stay out of her way.

As Mei Ling went about her work, Jonah sat on the porch, smoking a cigarette and ruminating on what he and Windy had talked about the night before. The man had a point: marrying Mei Ling _was_ the proper thing, and Jonah was a mite ashamed that the thought hadn't even entered his mind when he found he'd soon be a father. Lord, he was still trying to wrap his mind around _that_ notion, why'd he need to complicate it further by tossing on marriage? _'Cause yuh love her_, he said to himself, _an' she's worth the complications. If'n she ain't, then why in blazes did yuh say yuh loved her in the first place?_

With a heavy sigh, Jonah stubbed out his smoke and went back into the house. He found Mei Ling in Windy's bedroom, shaking out an old blanket and folding it neatly - her dress shifted as she moved, and Jonah could see that her stomach was just beginning to bulge slightly. Clearing his throat, he said, "Mei Ling, Ah was wonderin'...kin we talk a bit?"

"Of course we can." She laid the blanket at the foot of the bed and went over to him. "Is something the matter? You look troubled."

"No, Ah just...Ah've been doin' a lot of thinkin'. 'Bout the two of us...well, the three of us." His eyes glanced down to her belly. "Ah know yuh want tuh be with yer family when the baby comes, an' thet's fine by me, but if'n yuh want...er, whut Ah mean is..." He took a deep breath, then forced himself to say, "Will yuh marry me?"

After a brief pause, she gave her answer: "No."

"Whut the Hell do yuh mean, 'No'?" Jonah blurted, instantly regretting the tone of it.

"I mean that I love you...but not _all_ of you." She laid a hand on his chest, over his heart. "I love the good man that resides in here, and has blessed me with a child, but I do not love the killer that walks about in the world. I had hoped that, once you'd declared your love for me, that you would let go of that side of yourself, but you have not. You still insist on going out and killing men for money." A veil of sadness seemed to fall over her face as she said, "I cannot marry half a man, no matter how much I love you...so I must choose to not marry you at all."

Jonah was stunned silent for a moment, then he said quietly, "Yuh knew whut Ah did when yuh met me. Ah've never hid it...there ain't no shame in whut Ah do."

"In your eyes, perhaps, but what about in the eyes of our child?" Mei Ling replied. "It is up to us to teach him right from wrong, but how can we do that if you are always coming home with blood on your hands?"

"Thet ain't..." he started to say, but was interrupted by Ironjaws suddenly yowling out in the yard. The wolf had been stalking field mice and other little critters in the tall grass ever since Windy left, but judging by the noises it was making now, it sounded like something a mite bigger had gotten its attention. Temporarily forgetting the argument, Jonah went to the front door and saw Ironjaws running wide circles around an injured man on horseback, who was leading another horse behind him. After a moment, Jonah recognized the body slung over the second horse's saddle. "Windy!" he cried out, jumping off the porch and running as the rider stopped his horse in the middle of the yard. Hex saw a badge pinned to the man's shirt, and presumed that he must be the constable Windy told them about. "Whut happened?" Hex asked.

"Taylor's son...bushwhacked us...working for Fenrick," Hart said with a groan as he stumbled off his horse - the left side of his shirt was covered in blood. "Got lucky...bullet's stuck 'tween the ribs...played possum 'til he was gone."

Jonah was trying to take the information in, but all he could focus on was Windy. He pulled the old man off the saddle as gently as he could, laying him on the ground - Ironjaws came right up beside his master and whined as Jonah looked him over. "The man's a mess...why the Hell did yuh bring him here? Ah cain't do nothin' fer him."

"He insisted...said if he's going to die, he wants to do it on his own land."

Mei Ling was coming across the yard now, and Jonah pointed at Hart, saying to her, "Get this fella inside an' bandage him up." He then scooped the old man up in his arms and followed them into the house, the wolf at his heels. Hex didn't say a word as he passed the two of them, he simply continued on down the hall, leaving a trail of blood the whole way. Jonah laid him on the bed, then sat next to him, remembering how their positions had been reversed when they first met a lifetime ago. "Hang in there, Windy," he said. "If'n Ah kin make it, y'all kin too."

The old man's eyes opened halfway, and he lifted a trembling hand off the bed, brushing it against the front of Jonah's uniform. "Y'...y' gon' asker?" he slurred out.

Hex had no clue what that meant, then it sank in. "Ah asked her right afore yuh arrived."

Windy smiled, a small bubble of blood forming at the corner of his mouth. "Goo' boy...prou' o' ya..." The hand drifted up to Jonah's face and lingered on his scarred cheek. "Raise y' ri..." There was a slight twitch in his fingers, then the hand began to drop. Jonah caught and held Windy's hand for close to a minute, still looking into those old eyes that had suddenly gone dim, before setting it down across the man's chest. He then picked up the blanket that Mei Ling had folded not even ten minutes ago and draped it over his mentor's body.

Behind him, Ironjaws let out a long, low whine. He looked at the wolf and said, "Yuh kin come with me, or yuh kin stay here with him. Makes no dif'rence tuh me." Jonah then left the room, and after sniffing the blanket a few times, Ironjaws followed.

Mei Ling was nearly finished bandaging Hart's wound when Jonah came into the main room, checking the rounds in his Dragoons. "Y'all gonna be okay tuh ride?" he asked Hart.

"Think so." Hart picked up his bloody shirt and pulled it back on. "I'll do my best to keep pace. If I fall behind, just go on without me."

"What are you...no, you're not going!" Mei Ling stepped away from Hart and stood in front of Jonah. "The constable and his men can handle this, you don't have to step in."

"Maybe Ah don't, but Ah am," he answered, "an' Ah swear, it'll be the last time Ah do." Before she could ask what he meant, he said, "After me an' Hart get this mess settled, Ah'll lay down muh guns forever. Ah ain't gonna pretend thet it's an easy decision, but if'n thet's whut Ah have tuh do tuh keep yuh an' the baby...well, then Ah reckon Ah have tuh do it."

"You're serious?" she asked. "You're not just saying this to appease me?"

"Ah ain't never been one fer lyin', sugar. Just let me do this one last thing, fer Windy's sake, an' when Ah get back, Ah'll be the good man yuh want me tuh be."

Mei Ling took hold of his arms and stared up at him, overwhelmed by a mixture of joy and sorrow. "You promise me..._promise_ that you'll come home safe, and that you'll _stay_ home."

"Ah promise." He kissed her on the forehead, then he and Hart went back outside to saddle up fresh horses, the wolf padding along at Jonah's heel.

* * *

"To be honest, I wasn't sure if you'd actually go through with it," Fenrick said as he knelt in front of the safe. "Your dislike of your father must have run even deeper than my own."

"I ain't gonna miss him, if that's what you mean." Tod crossed his arms over the splash of blood on his shirt. "Reckon that money will soften any lingerin' feelings I might get later."

Fenrick glanced at the young man, then opened the safe and pulled out a stack of bills, counting out five hundred dollars. He laid it on the desk, and Tod fanned it out with a smirk, saying, "Actually, I was thinkin' maybe we should make it an even thousand. After all, I _did_ get rid of that lawman for ya."

"You mean you killed Hart as well? Are you _crazy_? Getting your father out of the way like that was risky enough, but J.D. Hart..." Fenrick paled and sat down hard in his chair. "There will be an investigation...more lawmen looking into my dealings here...this is becoming too much." He began to scoop the money back up, muttering, "I have to get out of town..."

Tod grabbed Fenrick by the wrist and twisted it. "You can run _after _you've paid me, mister. Matter of fact, I'd say my price just went up even higher."

"I'm not paying you a damn thing. You've made this situation worse than it already was." He tried to pull away, only to have Tod shove a pistol in his face. "Oh God...please, you don't have to..."

"I won't if you open that safe up again. I'm gonna need some travelin' money, if things are gonna get as hot around here as you say." The two of them went back to the safe, Fenrick's hands shaking as he redid the combination. As he opened it up, he noticed Tod was looking towards the study's window. "There's somebody outside," the young man said.

"I don't hear..."

"I'll bet you don't. Y'all got some of your boys waitin' to ambush me, don't ya? Figure it'll be safer for you if I'm dead." He held the gun inches from Fenrick's face and grabbed a wad of cash with his free hand, stuffing it in his shirt. "Why don't you an' me go for a walk, eh?"

They left the study, Fenrick in the lead, and went to the front door. "Anybody starts shootin', an' your boss will get it!" Tod shouted as he opened the door. There was no one within sight in the yard, but the young man was still wary as they stepped out onto the porch. They were halfway down the steps when Tod heard a growl. He turned to see Ironjaws crawling out from under a bench on the porch and moving between them and the open front door.

"Yuh ain't as smart as yuh think yuh are, Tod," Jonah Hex called out from somewhere unseen. "Even if the wolf hadn't scented yuh, yer horse left a trail as clear as day."

"Come out where I can see you, or else he's a goner!" Tod jammed the gun against Fenrick's head.

Slowly, Hart appeared from behind a wagon parked to Tod's right, and Hex eased out from behind a stout tree to the left. Both had their guns leveled at him. "Just let him go, Tod," Hart said to him. "We've had more than enough people die over this mess."

Tod glared at the constable, then his eyes slid over to Hex. "You know, when I rode up on Pa his morning, I'd hoped you were the one with him. I was lookin' forward to cuttin' you down as well."

"Get in line with every other skunk in the territory," Jonah growled.

"Yeah, but them other fellas don't hate you like I do. Pa never gave a damn 'bout me 'til Ma died, but you...he treated _you_ more like a son than he _ever _did _me_. Always goin' on 'bout how great you was to anybody that'd listen. 'That's my boy,' he'd say. 'I taught him everything he knows.'" Tod's face locked into a grimace. "Well, today _I'm_ gonna teach you something."

"Don't try it, son, Ah don't want tuh..."

"_Don't tell me what to do!_" Tod shoved Fenrick away and trained his gun on Hex, but it didn't matter: the bounty hunter's Dragoons sounded out twice, making Tod's body jerk about like a puppet before collapsing on the ground, bloodstained greenbacks spilling out of his shirt.

Fenrick was on the ground as well, sprawled out flat as Hart walked up to him. "Th-thank you," Fenrick stammered out. "Oh God, he was going to kill me...thank you...he..."

"Shut up, Fenrick," Hart said. "Just shut the Hell up."

* * *

Two weeks later, many of the residents of Cheyenne gathered in the church, dressed in their Sunday best and eager for the ceremony to start. They may not have known the participants personally, but the name and reputation of one of them was hard to ignore, and once word got around that Jonah Hex was getting married, no one in town wanted to miss it.

As for Jonah himself, he was trying very hard not to think about all those people out there and just concentrate on making his damned tie look presentable. He stood in a back room of the church before a mirror, fussing and swearing under his breath as he wrestled with it. "Bad enough thet Mei Ling won't let me wear muh uniform today," he said as he yanked the tie off his neck and started over, "now Ah have tuh deal with this useless thing."

There was a knock at the door, and J.D. Hart poked his dark-haired head in. Like Jonah, he was dressed in a nice suit and clean-shaven. "What's taking so long?" he asked.

"Ah'm busy hangin' muhself," Jonah replied, finally getting the tie to behave somewhat. "This is too much damn fuss fer a ceremony thet'll be over an' done with in half an hour."

"Come on, it's not like you get gussied up like this all the time...and to be honest, you don't look half-bad." He walked over to Hex and smoothed a wrinkle out of the man's suit coat.

"Ain't worn a suit like this in over ten years. Didn't like it then, neither." Jonah paused, then said to Hart in a more agreeable tone, "Thanks again fer lettin' me lay claim tuh Windy's place. Ah know things is still a mess 'round here, with whut Fenrick did..."

"Yeah, I know, but don't worry about it. Tod was right about one thing: Windy _did_ talk about you like you were his son, and I think he'd be tickled to know that you and Mei Ling are gonna homestead here." Hart cocked an eyebrow. "You _sure_ you don't want me to deputize you, though? If you're not bounty-hunting anymore, you'll have to earn a living _somehow_."

"Thet may be, but Ah made a promise, an' Ah'm stickin' by it. No more gunfightin', not even as a lawman. 'Sides, Ah've socked away a little money over the years...reckon it'll hold us 'til Ah figure out something else."

"Okay, but if you change your mind," Hart began to say, but Jonah assured him that he wouldn't. The two men then made their way to the front of the church - Jonah had managed to stay fairly calm up until then, but when he saw the crowded pews, he felt a few butterflies flutter in his stomach. He looked over at Hart, who smirked and gave him a bit of a shove so he'd keep walking up to where the preacher stood.

As Jonah stepped into place, someone began to play a wedding march on the piano, and moments later, he saw Mei Ling walk up the aisle, her white bridal dress subtly trimmed with pink on the collar and sleeves. Though a veil was draped over her face, he could still see her smiling beneath it. He smiled back, a lump forming in his throat, and took her hand in his.

_Lord, let me have this_, Jonah silently prayed as the preacher began to speak. _Ah've had so many things taken from me, but Ah'll forgive yuh fer all of 'em if'n yuh let me have this._

_Please, Lord, just this once..._


	4. The Prodigal Father

**THE PRODIGAL FATHER**

_**1871:**_

The Roundyard Saloon sat on a lonely side street near the outskirts of Cheyenne. Due to its locale, business tended to be slow, but it had a fair share of loyal patrons that stopped by on a regular enough basis to keep the doors open and the booze flowing. And about two months before, that list of patrons increased by one (or two, if you counted the wolf that sometimes padded into the saloon right behind him). His presence had been greeted with a mixture of awe and fear at first, but after a while, it became hard to imagine what the place had been like before he'd arrived, and the atmosphere settled down accordingly.

On this particular day, most of the Roundyard's eclectic patrons were gathered at one table, engrossed in a poker game that had been running almost since the saloon opened that morning, and there was a good chance that it would keep going until Miss Crawford, who owned the saloon, kicked them out at closing time. None of the men could really afford to lose the money they were gambling away, but that didn't stop them from doing so anyways.

"Ah raise yuh five," Jonah said, tossing in coins accordingly.

"I'll see that," Larkin replied. His coins clattered in, followed by Findley and Loy, who in turn jostled the elbow of the man next to him. "C'mon, Izzy, ante up," Loy said.

Izzy continued to stare at his cards. "My wife is gonna kill me."

"She won't be home for another week. She never needs to know," Mike said, sitting just off to the side of the group. "Now hurry up, you're holding up the game."

"Easy for you to say. You bowed out a half-hour back."

"I'm just catching my breath, that's all...and trying to think of what else I can hock."

The men laughed at that, loosening the tension, but Izzy still didn't toss in any money. Finally, he turned to Hex and said, "Give me ten bucks."

"Ah ain't givin' y'all nothin'. An' the ante's only five, anyhow."

"Yeah, but you never paid me for those two goats that wolf of yours killed. Two goats times five dollars a head is ten bucks...pay up."

"Ah keep tellin' yuh, Ironjaws didn't touch yer damn goats." At the sound of its name, the wolf in question lifted its head from beside Jonah's feet to look up at its master. "There's other wolves 'round here aside from him, yuh know."

Larkin groaned, "Just give him the money, Hex. You guys have been arguing over this goat thing since I met you. I'm sick of hearing it."

"I've got a better idea." Miss Crawford stepped out from behind the bar and sashayed over to them, holding an empty beer mug. "Everybody drop two dollars in here for Izzy...and that includes you, Jonah. This way, the blame's spread even and nobody goes broke. Agreed?"

A low grumble circled around the table as each man dropped money in the mug. Mike tried to cry poverty, but Miss Crawford stood there looking at him like an impatient mother until he coughed up two bucks. She then set the mug in front of Izzy, saying, "Now, I don't want to hear another word about your stupid dead goats. Ever. You got that?"

"Yes, ma'am," Izzy mumbled, then fished five dollars out of the mug and made his ante.

They made another circuit of bets around the table before finally calling. The men slapped their cards down on the table, and Loy let out a crow of delight when he realized he'd won the pot. "Come to daddy!" he said, grinning from ear to ear as he raked in the cash.

"He's a worse winner than Lash," Jonah grumbled. "Hey, Tick-Tock, whut time is it?"

Findley pulled out the ornate pocket watch that earned him his nickname and said, "About ten past five."

"Dammit." Jonah stood up from the table. "Ah've gotta be headin' out."

"And Mr. Bounty Hunter rides off into the sunset," Mike said in a dramatic tone.

Jonah scowled and said, "Ah told yuh not to call me thet. Ah ain't a bounty hunter no more, so quit callin' me such. Ah'm just a regular fella now, same as yerselves."

"Pardon my saying so, Hex, but you're far from a 'regular fella'." Larkin scooped up the cards and tapped them into a neat pile. "You've seen and done things that the rest of us can hardly imagine. Sure, you're not doing those sorts of things anymore, but that doesn't mean your reputation ceases to exist. When people see you, they still see that reputation...and you're probably gonna hear more people around town than just Mike calling you 'bounty hunter' no matter what you do with the rest of your life."

"Thet may be so," Jonah replied, "but Ah don't want y'all 'round here tuh call me such." It seemed like an insignificant point to make, but he was adamant about making it. Ever since he'd promised Mei Ling that he would give up his life as a gunfighter, Jonah had strived to distance himself from that old life as much as possible. He'd even stowed away his Dragoons, gunbelts and all, inside a trunk at the foot of their bed, along with his old Confederate coat - he still wore his officer's hat, but he considered tossing that in the trunk from time to time as well.

"Okay, I won't call you that anymore," Mike said, then grinned. "How about I call you 'Mr. Happy' instead?"

"How 'bout yuh quit yer clownin' an' shut yer damn yap fer a change?" As Jonah walked towards the door, Larkin began to deal out a new hand, and Mike finally decided to jump back into the game. Despite his harsh demeanor, Jonah actually did enjoy their company. Heck, sometimes he even liked Mike's dumb jokes. "Mr. Happy," Jonah muttered with a snort, then pushed the batwings open, Ironjaws trotting outside with him.

Jonah was making his way to the livery stable over on Cheyenne's main street when he heard J.D. Hart call his name. The constable trotted up to him, saying, "Glad I caught you in town. Thought I was gonna have to ride out to your place."

"Yo're lucky Ah lost track of time...though Ah reckon Mei Ling will be disappointed yuh didn't ride out anyhow." Ever since they'd settled in at Windy's old homestead, Hart had become a good friend to Jonah and his new bride, just as he'd been to Windy himself before the old man passed on. The only quibble Jonah had with the constable was that Hart was still trying to pressure him into becoming a peace officer. In Hex's mind, that was too close to his old job, and therefore off-limits, but Hart would lob the offer out there anyways, albeit in the nicest, most roundabout way possible. Jonah had learned to deal with the man's persistence, but he hoped that wasn't the reason Hart flagged him down today. "Whut's on yer mind, J.D.?"

"A man stopped by my office looking for you. He'd heard you were living here now, but he didn't know where."

Inside, Jonah tensed. When most people went looking for him, it was either to offer him a job or to kill him, and since Hart knew good and well that Jonah was retired, that only left one option...one that he'd hoped to never face. "Where is he?"

"He was following right...hey!" Hart cried out in surprise as Jonah grabbed a revolver out of Hart's own holster, then pushed him aside and headed up the boardwalk. Jonah's eyes flicked from one person to the next, looking for anyone out-of-place, but he saw no one other than the usual residents of Cheyenne. Then he saw an old man coming towards him whose face seemed oddly familiar, though he couldn't put his finger on it. He didn't appear to be a threat, but something about him made Jonah feel small and vulnerable nonetheless, and Jonah Hex prided himself on being neither of those things. So when the old man strode right up to him, Jonah tightened his grip on the revolver and set his feet, ready for anything.

The old man looked him up and down, then said, "Damn, boy, y'all done shot up like a weed. An' thet face...Hell, Ah thought them stories Ah'd heard 'bout how ugly yuh'd gotten was exaggerated, but now Ah reckon they didn't go far enough."

Hex scowled, saying, "Yuh got a lot of nerve talkin' tuh me like thet, old-timer. Yo're lucky Ah don't knock yuh on yer wrinkled ass."

"Yuh never could best me, boy," the old man answered. "An' it don't matter how big yuh've gotten, Ah kin still whup yuh if needs be."

The sound of the old man's voice pricked at Jonah's memory, but before he could place it, Hart came up behind him and said, "Glad to see you found each other, Mr. Hex."

Jonah turned to the constable and was about to ask why Hart was addressing him as "Mr. Hex" all of the sudden when the old man replied, "Weren't all thet hard. He may be a far sight older'n Ah remember, but he ain't changed so much thet Ah cain't recognize him."

"Whut in the blue Hell are yuh talkin' 'bout? Ah don't even know who yuh are!"

Hart blinked in surprise. "He's your father, Jonah...or at least that's what he told me."

As the meaning of the words sank in, everything around Jonah seemed to momentarily fall away, leaving before him only the sight of this mean-mouthed old man. He looked past the scraggly white beard and hard eyes peering out at him from beneath a battered slouch hat, and was shocked to discover the image of Woodson Hex that Jonah had held in his brain for twenty long years matched up perfectly. Then reality crashed back in on Jonah as his father smacked him on the arm, yelling, "Dammit, boy, don't stand there with yer mouth hangin' open! Makes yuh look even stupider than yuh already are!" Jonah was still too stunned to make a reply, but one was offered up by Ironjaws, who growled at Woodson for assaulting its master. "Whut the Hell is thet mutt's problem?" the old man said.

"He's a good judge of character," Jonah finally managed to get out, but it was rather quiet. Though it had been twenty years, he found himself slipping back into childhood mindsets, chief among them being "Don't talk back to Pa unless you want a whuppin'."

The change in Jonah's demeanor was obvious to Hart, and to be honest, he found it somewhat scary - though he'd only known Jonah for a little over two months, it seemed to him like he was looking at an entirely different person. Hart decided it would be best to get his friend to some sort of neutral ground, and hopefully the Jonah he knew would reassert himself. "Why don't the three of us head on back to my office? I've got a bottle of rye stashed away..."

The slight widening of Jonah's eyes told Hart that what he'd suggested was a very _bad_ idea, but Woodson had already jumped on it, saying, "Thet's mighty generous of yuh. Ah ain't had a good belt all day." He looked up at his son. "How 'bout it? Y'all think yuh kin drink yer Pa under the table?"

"Ah...Ah've got tuh be gettin' home." Jonah seemed to force the words out, as if in a hurry to say them before he lost his nerve. He gave Hart his revolver, then headed back towards the livery, saying almost as an afterthought, "It was nice tuh see yuh again, Pa."

"Whut's yer problem, boy? Ah come all this way tuh visit, an' y'all blow me off like Ah've got the damn plague!" Woodson started to follow after his son, only for Hart to grab him by the arm and stop him. "Get yer paws off'n me! Ah ain't broke no law, so yuh ain't got no right tuh restrain me!"

"Maybe I don't, but I consider Jonah a friend, and I can tell that he doesn't want to be around you for some reason. Mind telling me why?"

Woodson's face screwed up in disgust. "Whut is it with lawmen thinkin' they know muh own son better'n Ah do?" He yanked his arm free of Hart's grip and continued on down the boardwalk, arriving at the livery in time to see Jonah leading his horse out of the stall. "Yuh ain't gonna shake me thet easy," Woodson said as he walked towards him, but Ironjaws once again interceded, growling and bearing its teeth.

"C'mere, boy," Jonah said, and after a moment, Ironjaws came to his side. He knelt down and petted the animal until it settled down, then he looked over at his father. "Ah don't know where yuh come from, Pa, but Ah'd appreciate it if'n yuh went right back there."

"Whut's the matter? Yuh ashamed of me?"

"No...no, Ah ain't ashamed of yuh." Jonah still held onto Ironjaws, as if drawing strength from the wolf. "Ah just...Ah've got muh own life now. It's a good life. It's quiet."

"Ah heard some woman made yuh go soft, turned yuh into a farmer." Woodson crossed his arms and said, "Judgin' by the way yo're actin', Ah reckon thet must be true."

Jonah's hands tightened, making the wolf whine. "Ah ain't gone soft, Ah just decided tuh retire from bounty-huntin'. Thet's all." He stood up and resumed leading his horse out of the livery. "Ah've got a family tuh worry 'bout now, an' Ah mean tuh take care of 'em."

Woodson followed right behind his son, saying, "So Ah ain't part of yer family no more? Is thet it? Yo're just gonna turn yer back on yer own flesh an' blood?"

There was a part of Jonah that wanted to turn around and strangle his father for saying that...but he'd promised Mei Ling that he'd be a good man from now on. And good men don't commit patricide, no matter how wonderful the thought might be at the time. Instead, Jonah took a deep breath, let it out slow through his nose, then managed to unclench his jaw enough to say, "Goodbye, Pa," before getting on his horse and riding off.

Jonah was already on the road heading towards home when he realized Woodson was trailing about a quarter-mile behind.

* * *

Mei Ling hummed a traditional Chinese song as she pulled the wash off the line. Over the past few months, she'd worked hard to make Windy's old place into a warm, inviting home, perfect for raising her child in. _Our child_, she corrected herself, and paused to lay a hand on her ever-growing belly. She had to admit, she thought Jonah would have difficulty keeping his promise, but so far he'd been earnest in his efforts to be a good husband and father. Though he talked very little about it, Mei Ling knew that Jonah's own childhood had not been pleasant, and perhaps that was what drove him to be there for Mei Ling, despite what she'd had him give up.

She piled the last of the wash into the basket at her feet, then looked in the direction of town. It was nearly sunset, and Jonah was still not home. Mei Ling felt the old fear creep over her, just like when Jonah used to go out bounty-hunting: the fear that something terrible had happened to him, and he'd never come home again. _You're being foolish_, she told herself, hoisting the basket onto her hip. _He'll be home soon...I hope_. As she made her way towards the house, she allowed herself one last glance at the road, and was rewarded with the sight of a horse and rider coming over the rise, with a wolf trotting alongside. There was a second horseman not far behind, and Mei Ling assumed that it must be J.D. Hart. _I wish Jonah had told me he was inviting Hart for supper_, she thought. But as they got closer to the house, she could hear a booming voice that most certainly did not belong to the constable.

"...be happier tuh see me after all these years. But no, yo're the same selfish brat thet yuh was when Ah last saw yuh! Y'all ain't changed one bit!" The old man continued to berate Jonah all the way up to the house, while Jonah himself rode in silence, a look somewhere between anger and agony on his face. After Jonah dismounted, he walked right over to Mei Ling and wrapped his arms around her so tight that she dropped the wash basket. The old man dismounted as well, saying, "Well, are yuh gonna make introductions, or just keep ignorin' me?"

Jonah gave her another squeeze, then eased up and slipped his arm around her waist. "Mei Ling, this here's...this is muh Pa, Woodson Hex."

Mei Ling barely had time to get over the surprise of that statement before Woodson blurted out, "Damn, boy, yuh went an' married a _coolie_?"

"Don't call her thet," Jonah said, his voice strained. "She's muh wife, an' Ah ain't gonna tolerate yuh insultin' her."

Woodson snorted. "Don't see why it matters. She probably don't understand English."

"She understands English quite well, thank you," Mei Ling replied, and offered her hand, forcing herself to say, "It is nice to meet you, Mr. Hex."

The old man ignored the gesture and stepped onto the porch, immediately heading inside the house. "Hope yer girl laid out some food fer us, boy, 'cause Ah'm famished."

Mei Ling looked up at Jonah, who was in turn looking at the door to the house with an air of dread, his entire posture tense. "Is that really your father?" she asked.

He nodded, then opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by his father's voice bellowing out, "Where do y'all keep the whiskey?"

Jonah seemed to flinch at those words, and Mei Ling asked, "Are you afraid of him?"

There was a long pause, then Jonah said, "Ah don't know."

* * *

Woodson seemed incapable of shutting up. That was the first of many conclusions Mei Ling came to regarding her father-in-law. The second was that he was the source of Jonah's temperament, though in Woodson's case, it was without restraint. The man made comment on everything, and it usually wasn't favorable: according to him, the food Mei Ling served was barely edible, the whiskey Jonah reluctantly proffered was the quality of bath water, and their home was apparently far below Woodson's current standards. Jonah himself bore the brunt of his father's ire, being told at least four times throughout the course of the evening that he was a damned idiot or some variation thereof. Mei Ling was shocked to see her husband silently take all this verbal abuse, especially knowing that Jonah had punched other men dead in the face for saying less to him. But take it he did, barely raising his voice above a conversational tone no matter what nasty things Woodson said.

In between his criticisms, Woodson filled them in on all the adventures he'd had since he'd last seen his son. Striking it rich in California, parlaying his money into exciting new enterprises, having his way with scores of beautiful women...to hear him tell it, Woodson Hex had lived like a king these last twenty years. That didn't explain why he was currently dressed like a saddle bum just in from the trail, but since Jonah didn't press the issue and the old man seemed deaf to nearly every word Mei Ling said, the inconsistency passed by unexplained.

As the clock began to creep up on midnight, Mei Ling tried to call a halt to Woodson's endless monologues. "It's rather late," she said, getting up from her chair. "Perhaps we should all turn in for the night."

"Sounds like a good idea," Jonah replied, and got up as well. "It's been a long day."

Woodson didn't take the hint. "Damn, boy, yuh really have gone soft. Ah ain't the least bit tuckered out, an' here yuh are, with yer head droopin' already like a little baby." He picked up the whiskey bottle - his second one that night - and poured himself another glass. "C'mon an' stay up with yer Pa a while longer...if'n y'all kin handle it."

Mei Ling's eyes met Jonah's, and indeed, he _did_ look tired, but she doubted that it was all physical exhaustion. She quietly took his hand and squeezed it, and that touch seemed to give him enough courage to say, "Ah'm goin' tuh bed, Pa. Y'all might want tuh do the same."

The old man made a rather rude noise, then knocked back the shot and poured another. That was all the answer he deigned to give his son, and Jonah was rather familiar with those sort of answers, so he let the man be.

Once they were within the safety of their bedroom, Mei Ling expected Jonah to let loose to some degree, but even behind closed doors, he held his tongue. The only sign of distress he gave was the heavy sigh that escaped him as he sat down on the edge of the bed to pry off his boots...but Mei Ling knew that, for a man as emotionally guarded as Hex, the smallest outward gestures were nothing compared to what he was hiding beneath.

Sitting down on the bed herself, she put her arms around him and settled her head against his shoulder. "I don't like the way he treats you," she said after a while. "It reminds me of how those railroad men acted towards my people." Jonah made no reply, so she said, "Is that the true reason why you helped us? Because no one stood up for you against your father?"

"Ah don't need nobody tuh stand up fer me," he said. "Ah'm a grown man...Ah kin fight muh own battles."

"Then why do you let him talk to you like that? Why is that man inside our home when he acts like he hates the sight of you?"

"He don't hate me, he just..." A look of distress washed over his face as a memory surfaced from some dark corner of his mind: the image of his mother, bruises forming on her tear-streaked face as she said to him, "_He doesn't hate us, sweetheart, he just...he has a hard time showing his feelings, that's all. He's a good man, he...takes care of us_." Her voice had been hesitant, unsure of how to explain the situation properly to her young son - she'd finally settled on the vague answer of "_You'll understand when you're older."_

"Jonah, what's wrong?" Mei Ling had never seen that look on his face before, and it worried her in a way she didn't know was possible. Then it passed, like a cloud moving away from the sun, and her husband merely looked tired again. She touched his face gently, saying, "I'm sorry if I upset you, but your father..."

"Ah'll talk tuh him in the mornin'," he said quietly. "Ah just need tuh get some sleep first, alright?" She agreed, and they finished getting ready for bed. When they laid down together, her back pressing against his chest, it seemed to Mei Ling that Jonah held her a little more closely than normal, as if shielding her from something.

* * *

It was an old dream, one Jonah hadn't experienced in a long time. He was a boy again, his face unscarred, his heart only bearing one major wound so far in his young life. An Apache had him pinned to the ground as his father talked to Chief High Cloud about how much the boy was worth, just as it had happened twenty years before. Unlike then, however, Jonah _knew_ what lay ahead for him now: slavery, betrayal, disfigurement, exile, all stemming from this one moment. _Not again_, Jonah thought, an old mind in a youthful body. _Ah ain't gonna let him leave me here again!_ But he also knew he couldn't put up with his father's constant abuse. _Then Ah'll carve a new path...Ah'll head out on muh own, never mind whut happened afore_, he thought, then broke free of the Apache's grasp and began to run, away from the Indians, away from his father, away from his painful future. Out of the corner of his eye, Jonah caught sight of White Fawn, just as young and beautiful as he remembered, but he didn't let that sway him. _Leave it all behind, good an' bad_, he told himself. _Don't look back, don't stop..._

Something big and heavy thudded against his back, knocking him to the ground. He tried to get up, but a familiar voice said, "Yuh ain't goin' nowhere, boy! Ain't no way Ah'm lettin' yuh out of muh sight this time!" Jonah turned his head and saw his father leaning over him, monstrous and smelling of booze. "Made a mistake, leavin' yuh with them Injuns. Should've just been firmer with yuh." Like magic, the belt appeared in his father's hand, coiled around his fist like a leather-brown snake. "Gotta start makin' up fer lost time!"

"No...no, Pa, please..." Jonah sobbed, now a child again in both mind and body. "Ah'm a good boy, Ah swear...don't..." But the words weren't enough, same as always, and the belt came down, snapping right across his face. Blood gushed into his eyes, mixing with the tears he shed. The belt continued to snap, slicing his ear, his neck, his forearms, every inch of his body. This was worse than any beating Jonah ever received before, but he couldn't muster the will to defend himself. _If Ah fight back, Pa will just hurt me more,_ he thought, so he tried to make himself small and harmless and hoped Pa would go away again, if only he'd _go away..._

Fingers dug into his arm, and his father said, "Get up, boy." But Jonah wouldn't do it, he refused to even open his eyes. "Dammit, boy, Ah said _get up_!" His father jerked Jonah's arm, and he went flying...only to fall out of bed and against the wooden planks of the bedroom floor. Dazed, Jonah tried to shake off the remnants of his dream and figure out what happened. The room was quite dark, but he could make out someone moving nearby, and after a few seconds, he realized it was indeed his father who'd yanked him out of bed. The whiskey bottle dangled from Woodson's hand as he glared down at Jonah. "Yuh never listen tuh me," the man said, the words slurring a bit. "Ah'm yer _Pa_, dammit...yuh gotta respect yer Pa."

"Aw, Christ...yo're drunk, ain'tcha?" Jonah climbed to his feet, rubbing the sore spot on the back of his head. "C'mon, let's put y'all tuh bed afore yuh wake up Mei Ling."

"No respect...not a lick of it." Woodson's gaze fell on the bed. "Thet coolie of yers don't respect me neither...kin tell by the way she looks at me."

Jonah flushed red. "Ah warned yuh, Pa: _don't call her thet_."

Woodson ignored him and reached out for Mei Ling's sleeping form, shaking her. "Get up, yuh whore...gonna teach yuh how tuh act proper towards a white man."

In a flash, all the fear that Jonah had felt before in the presence of his father was replaced by blind rage. He grabbed the man from behind and locked an arm around his throat. Woodson struggled to break free, but Jonah simply squeezed tighter. "Touch her again, an' Ah'll break yer goddam neck," he growled.

Mei Ling stirred beneath the blankets, saying in a drowsy voice, "Jonah...what..."

"Just a bad dream, sugar," Jonah replied softly. "Everything's okay. Go back tuh sleep." Once he was sure Mei Ling was asleep again, Jonah dragged his father out of the bedroom, forcing him all the way down the hall and out the front door. Ironjaws was laying in its usual spot beneath the porch, and the wolf poked its head out as its master threw Woodson down in the middle of the yard. Barefoot and clad only in his longjohns, Jonah stood over his father, glaring down at him. "Ah've taken 'bout all Ah kin from yuh, Pa. Bad enough thet yo're still hackin' on me like yuh did when Ah was a boy, but if'n yuh think fer _one goddam second_ thet Ah'm gonna stand by an' let yuh treat muh wife like thet..."

"Like y'all got the guts tuh stop me." Woodson leaned heavily to one side as he got to his feet. "Ah've been hearin' all these stories 'bout how yo're so damn tough, but Ah sure don't see it. Don't know why I even bothered tuh come out here...yo're just as useless now as yuh were back then." He lifted the bottle he still held to his lips as he said, "Only time yuh was worth anything was when Ah talked them Apache into buyin' yuh..."

Jonah slapped the bottle away, then drove his fist into his father's jaw, knocking him to the ground again. With a snarl, he fell on top of Woodson and began to pummel him with his fists, yelling, "Ah'm sick tuh death of yuh judgin' me! Nothin' Ah ever do is good enough fer yuh, even after twenty goddam years!" The wolf came out from under the porch and began to circle around them, yipping and yelping as Jonah bloodied his father's face. "Is thet the reason y'all decided tuh come back? So's yuh could make me feel worthless when muh life is finally goin' right fer a change? Is thet it?" He grabbed hold of the front of Woodson's shirt and throttled him. "Tell me why yuh came back, yuh stinkin' reprobate! _Tell me!"_

The old man's lip was already starting to swell, and there was blood trickling out of the corner of his mouth, but he managed to get out, "Th-they...they're gonna...kuh-kill m-m-me..."

At first, Jonah thought his father was afraid Jonah himself would kill him, but then the meaning of words cut through his rage. "Who's gonna kill yuh?" he asked.

"Puh-Perkins...Perkins brothers...Ah conned 'em...'bout a week ago." A change seemed to come over Woodson, turning him from an overbearing loudmouth into a pathetic, helpless old man. "Ah lied, Jonah...'bout all the deals an' fancy livin'. Ah ain't got nothin' but the clothes on muh back. Ah even stole the damn horse I rode in on."

"Yuh conned the Perkins brothers?" Jonah said. "They's stone-cold killers..."

"Ah know, Ah know...b-but Ah needed the money. Another fella was houndin' me...now the Perkins boys are after me instead." To Jonah's shock, tears began to run down Woodson's face as he said, "When Ah heard yuh was livin' nearby, Ah decided tuh take a chance...thought yuh might be willin' tuh help yer Pa out of a jam. Ah know it ain't right, layin' this in yer lap, but...please, Jonah, ah ain't got nobody else Ah kin turn tuh."

The temptation to simply let the Perkins brothers hunt down and kill his father was enormous, but Jonah knew it wouldn't be right - Woodson Hex was morally reprehensible, to be sure, but that alone wasn't enough to warrant death. Then there was the possibility of the Perkins brothers following Woodson's trail all the way to Cheyenne, which could put himself and Mei Ling in danger as well. Like it or not, Jonah would have to make sure those men were taken care of permanently...and worse yet, he'd have to do it without letting Mei Ling know.

With a heavy sigh, he let go of his father and stood up. "Get the horses saddled up, Pa," he said. "Ah'll be ready tuh go in five minutes."

* * *

To say that Jonah felt guilty as he and Woodson rode through the night would be an understatement. This was exactly the sort of thing he swore he'd never do again, yet here he was, following his father's back trail and keeping an eye peeled for anyone coming from the opposite direction. He'd left his coat and Dragoons in the trunk, tucking Windy's old Colt Navy under his belt instead, as if the change in weaponry would deflect some of the betrayal. He didn't even bring Ironjaws along, locking the wolf up in the barn amid howls of protest.

About eight miles outside of Cheyenne, they spotted a soft glow coming from behind a rise just off the trail. Dismounting, they crept up on it, until they were looking down upon five men gathered around a campfire - between the descriptions from various wanted posters Jonah had seen in the past and the nod from his father, the former bounty hunter knew they'd found the Perkins brothers. Four of the men were asleep in their bedrolls, but a fifth was quite alert, sitting on an old log with a rifle laying across his lap. From what Jonah knew about the Perkins brothers, they were all crack shots, so he'd have to do his best to pick them all off before they could reach their guns.

After motioning to his father to stay put, Jonah pulled out his Bowie knife and circled around behind the lookout. When he was within arm's reach, Jonah grabbed the lookout and, in one fluid motion, pulled him off the log and drew the knife across his throat - blood sprayed across Jonah's face as he let the lookout drop to the ground, momentarily distracting him from the fact that the dead man's rifle was falling against the log with a clatter. The noise roused one of the sleeping men, who barely had time to register Jonah's presence before the Bowie knife flew through the air and embedded in his neck. Unfortunately, he managed to let out a strangled cry before Jonah could finish him off, alerting the remaining Perkins brothers to his presence. The need for stealth gone, Jonah drew his Colt and opened fire as the other three men dove for their own weapons. The first two went down fast, bullets crashing through their skulls as fast as Jonah could pull the trigger, but the third scooped up a revolver and fired just as Jonah was turning towards him. The fact that Jonah was still in motion was the only thing that saved him: the bullet grazed his left cheek, causing him to jerk away and miss his own shot. Both men cocked their weapons once more, but this time, Jonah was faster, and the last of the Perkins brothers fell to the ground.

As Jonah stood silently in the middle of the camp, Woodson came over the rise, laughing at the carnage. "Damnation, would yuh look at this! So much fer the Perkins brothers' vaunted reputation!" He kicked at one of the bodies, saying, "Thet's whut y'all get fer gunnin' after me, yuh no-account skunks!"

"Shut up, Pa," Jonah said, bending down to retrieve his knife.

Woodson continued to berate the corpses, shouting, "Let thet be a lesson tuh y'all! Never look fer trouble with a Hex! Yessir!" He cackled and kicked at them some more, until Jonah came up behind him, grabbed him by the shoulder, and spun him around.

"Ah said..._shut...up_." Jonah's face was a red mask of horror, his eyes cold and hard like ice-blue diamonds. The sight of it was enough to finally still Woodson's tongue - he didn't even make a peep when Jonah took the bloody knife in his hand and wiped it off on the front of Woodson's shirt. "Last Ah heard, the Perkins brothers were worth 'bout eight hunnert apiece," Jonah said after he was done cleaning his blade. "Thet makes four thousand, altogether. Ah reckon thet should keep yuh comfortable fer a while, if'n yo're smart 'bout it."

"Yeah...yeah, Ah reckon it will," his father replied quietly.

"Matter of fact, yuh could probably go real far on thet sort of money. Like all the way back tuh California, or some other territory...but not Wyoming. Thet sort of money won't do yuh much good up here." Jonah's gaze drilled a hole through the old man's skull. "Yuh catch muh meanin', Pa?"

Woodson Hex nodded, and his son smiled at him with red-stained teeth.

* * *

The morning sun streaming through the bedroom window slowly drew Mei Ling back to wakefulness. She'd had strange dreams last night, mostly involving Jonah's father, but she couldn't remember them exactly. _Probably better that I don't_, she thought as she stretched her arms in front of her. _Dealing with the man when I'm awake is more than enough._

"Mornin', sugar," she heard Jonah say, and she turned on the mattress to see him laying beside her, but on top of the blankets. Even more strange was the fact that he was already dressed for the day and...yes, there was no mistaking it, he smelled like soap. She knew Jonah hated to bathe, so this was all rather puzzling to her. Then she saw the red mark on his cheek.

"What happened to you?" Mei Ling asked, gingerly touching the wound.

"Ah had a talk with Pa, like Ah said Ah would," he explained. "We hashed out a lot of stuff...got in bit of a tussle over it, too." Jonah's eyes darted away briefly as he talked. "The long an' short of it is...he's gone now. He left early this mornin'."

"Oh, Jonah..." She sat up in bed, saying, "I didn't want you two to come to blows. I just...he may be a terrible man, but he's still your father."

"Thet he is," he said with a sigh, then sat up as well. "But thet don't give him the right tuh keep messin' with muh life. When Ah was a boy, it was dif'rent, but now...now Ah've got other people tuh worry 'bout aside from muhself." His voice took on a serious tone. "Ah'm gonna do everything Ah kin tuh keep yuh safe, sugar. The baby, too. An' if'n thet means Pa cain't come around here no more an' harass us...well, yuh ain't gonna see me cry over it." He then smiled and said, "Now, how would yuh like yer eggs this mornin'? Half-cooked or burned tuh a crisp?"

"I'll decide later," Mei Ling replied, smiling herself, then pulled Jonah close and gave him a heartfelt kiss.


	5. the Better Part of Valor

**THE BETTER PART OF VALOR**

_**1871:**_

"But why do you have to go _now_?"

"Same reason Ah've been stockin' up the pantry," Jonah said as he tethered the rope from his packhorse to the saddle of the one he'd be riding. "Winter's gonna be here afore yuh know it, an' Ah want tuh make sure we've got enough food stowed away in case we get snowed in." He turned to Mei Ling, who was standing next to him with an old quilt wrapped around her shoulders like a shawl. "Soon's Ah bag a couple good-sized deer, Ah'll head on home an'..."

"But that might take _all day_," she replied. "Why would you rather spend today _by yourself_ than with me?"

"Ah keep tellin' yuh: it's just another day, no dif'rent than any other." The wind whipped up, bringing a chill to the yard and making Jonah shiver despite the sheepskin coat he wore. "Y'all should get back inside. The cold cain't be good fer the baby."

In response, Mei Ling began to tear up. "You don't want to be around me anymore."

"Ah didn't say..."

"You _don't_. You _look_ at me, and you see how _fat_ I am..." She tried to cover her swollen belly with the quilt - she was over six months' pregnant now, and there was no way to hide it. "You think I'm ugly," she sobbed.

"Thet ain't true, not in the least," he said to her, but in his head, he thought, _Lord, do we have to go through this again?_ The doctor had warned Hex that pregnant women could have mood swings, but it was one thing to be warned about them and another to constantly deal with them. It seemed like every day lately Mei Ling was either screaming at him or crying her eyes out over the stupidest things. There were days when she appeared positively giddy as well, but those seemed to be getting few and far between, and Jonah wondered sometimes if he'd be able to put up with this nonsense until the baby came. "Listen tuh me, sugar," he said as he put his arms around her. "Ah love yuh just as much now as the first time we met...maybe even a little more now." He rested a hand on her belly. "Pretty soon, this'll be over with, an' then we'll have ourselves a little boy a-crawlin' 'round the house. Ain't something wonderful like thet worth a bit of extra fuss right now?"

Mei Ling sniffled, then said, "It might be a girl."

"Oh, ain't no way Ah'm gonna..." Jonah started to say, then caught himself when he saw the look of disappointment on Mei Ling's face. "Well, if'n she comes out as pretty as her mama, thet'd be a good reason tuh keep her around. God help her if'n she takes after me, though."

That got a laugh out of Mei Ling, which made Jonah feel a little better. "I bet you were an adorable baby," she said.

"Don't know, Ah was too young tuh remember." She laughed again, and Jonah let out a chuckle of his own. "Yuh really should get back inside now, darlin'. Ah promise tuh be home long afore sundown."

"You _really _promise?"

"Ain't never broke one yet, have Ah? Now, go on inside an' take it easy 'til Doc Pedersen stops by. Will yuh do thet fer me?"

"I will...but_ please_ hurry home." She stood on her tiptoes to give him a kiss, then began to walk back to the house as Jonah saddled up. On the other side of the yard, Ironjaws was sniffing around in the long grass, and Hex let out a whistle as he rode by to summon the wolf to his side. Before he left the yard, Jonah looked back to see Mei Ling standing on the porch, waving a hand in farewell. He waved back with a smile, which disappeared the moment he turned away from her.

_Yuh damn hypocrite_, he chided himself as he rode along. _Yuh know damn good an' well thet yuh done broke a promise already, but yuh kin never admit tuh doin' it._ It had been nearly two months since he'd killed the Perkins brothers, despite his word to Mei Ling that he'd given up his violent ways. It wasn't like he'd done it indiscriminately, though: the chances of the Perkins brothers tracking his no-account father back to their home were too great to ignore, so Jonah had done what he thought was necessary to protect his wife and unborn child. Ever since then, the decision had weighed upon him, but he'd kept his mouth shut tight. _If'n she found out 'bout it, she'd never trust yuh again on anything. It may've only been one slip-up, an' fer a good reason, too, but she wouldn't care 'bout thet, so yuh'd better do your damnedest tuh make sure yuh never slip up again fer the rest of yer life._

With a sigh, Hex tilted his hat back and stared up at the overcast autumn sky. It was thoughts like those that made him want to spend this particular day alone...and not even marriage could change his feelings on that.

"Happy birthday, Jonah boy," he said to himself.

* * *

The Laramie Mountains loomed west of Cheyenne, still lush and wild and full of game despite the growing amount of settlers in the area. Snow had begun to collect up there, thanks to the higher altitude, and if the gray clouds overhead were any indication, there was a chance that there might be a bit more snow before the day was over. Jonah steered his mount along a rough path, his eyes on the constant lookout for tracks, while Ironjaws padded along beside him, following signs that only its sensitive nose could pick up. When the wolf kept leaving the path to root around in the woodland nearby, Jonah decided it was best to follow, and tied up his horses in a small clearing. He slung a satchel containing a canteen and other supplies over his shoulder, then took up his rifle and let Ironjaws lead the way through the frosted underbrush.

It had been years since Jonah had done any large-scale hunting. Sure, he'd snared a rabbit or other small game here and there on the trail, but what he was doing now was more like what he did during his time with the Apache or as an Army scout: filling the larder with more than his own belly in mind, and for a longer period of time than just one night around the campfire. Memories of those days gone by flitted across his mind as moved through the woods, memories of old lives...and of old loves. Jonah felt a twinge of guilt as his thoughts lingered on those women who had once meant the world to him. He'd told Mei Ling a small amount about his past relationships, but only enough to explain why he didn't want to wear a wedding ring - the idea of it just made him think too much of Cassie, and how he'd lost her - it wasn't until he showed Mei Ling the tarnished gold band he still carried in the pouch on his belt that she gave in to his wishes. Jonah supposed that, in time, he might finally be able to let go of those last vestiges of love that he held for both Cassie Wainwright and White Fawn, but until then, the secret struggle to give his wife the full amount of affection she deserved would continue.

The troubles in Jonah's heart were briefly forgotten when he spotted something moving through the woods ahead of him. Ironjaws saw it as well, and immediately crouched down at Jonah's feet. "Easy, boy," he whispered as he slowly crouched down himself, resting a hand on the wolf's neck as he peered through the trees. Sure enough, a small herd of elk were grazing a little more than fifteen yards away: one large bull and about eight cows, with a couple of calves milling between them. Jonah brought the rifle to his shoulder, then lined up the bull elk in his sights and fired. The bullet crashed through the animal's skull, and the rest of the herd scattered as the report still echoed through the woods. In the confusion, one of the females ran towards Jonah's position, so he took advantage of the opportunity and fired off two more shots, wounding but not killing it. Ironjaws leapt up without so much as a word from Hex and ran after the injured elk as it tried to veer away, eventually tripping the elk up and tearing out its throat once it hit the ground.

"Looks like Ah ain't lost muh touch," Jonah said as he walked over to the bull elk. "Took it out with one shot." He then looked over to where Ironjaws was still worrying at the female's neck. "Yuh want a hand there, boy?"

The wolf paid its master no attention, it just kept growling and thrashing the dead elk's head around.

Jonah stepped towards Ironjaws, saying, "Thet's enough, now let it go," but the wolf still wouldn't quit. "Ah said _thet's enough_!" He took a swipe at Ironjaws with his boot, and with a yelp, it finally backed off, tucking its tail between its legs. "Yuh'll get yer share in a minute," Jonah told the wolf, then took off his gloves and coat so as not to bloody them as he set to work. He plunged his sharp hunting knife into the elk's skin and tore it open, warm blood spilling over the snowy earth. After a minute of probing through the innards, Jonah pulled out the elk's liver, which he tossed towards the wolf. "There...y'all kin start in on thet."

Ironjaws snapped up the offering with a yip of delight, and Jonah's mouth curled up in a smile as he continued to dress his kill. The animals were far too big for the packhorse to handle intact, so Jonah laid out a canvas tarp and some large sacks, then proceeded to carve hunks of flesh off the bull elk and set them out on the canvas. Ironjaws continually nosed around the growing pile, only leaving it alone when Jonah tossed out another bit of organ meat. Once he was finished, he dragged the other elk over to the canvas and set to work on that. It was a long, methodical process, but worth it: once dressed, the two carcasses would yield about five hundred pounds of meat, enough to last himself and Mei Ling until springtime and then some.

Hours later, when he'd filled the last sack and was tying it shut, snowflakes began to drift down from the sky. "Couldn't have timed it better," Jonah said. He cleaned the blood off his hands, slipped his coat back on, then pulled out a flask and took a few swallows of whiskey. The action prompted Ironjaws to sit at his feet and let out a whine. He looked down at the wolf and said, "Whut, y'all want a belt?" Ironjaws whined some more, and Jonah laughed and shook his head. "Damnation...Windy spoiled yuh something fierce, didn't he?" He knelt down and poured some whiskey into his bare palm, which the wolf lapped up greedily. "Y'all satisfied now?" Jonah asked once the wolf had its share, and it responded by licking his face. He laughed again and scratched Ironjaws behind the ears, saying, "Yeah, Ah reckon Ah like yuh, too. Now, how 'bout we go fetch the horses so's we kin head on home?"

Leaving the wrapped meat behind for the moment, the two of them retraced their steps back to the clearing. The horses seemed glad to be moving again as Jonah walked them carefully through the underbrush. He hoped that he could get the entire load onto the packhorse, but judging by how many sacks he'd filled, there was a chance that he'd have to decide between leaving some of it behind, or loading up both horses and leading them home on foot. _Whut's the matter, y'all gone soft already?_ he silently teased himself. _Yuh ain't become so civilized yet thet yuh cain't walk home, 'specially when it means y'all won't have tuh worry 'bout food the whole winter. Thet's worth a good long walk, ain't it?_

Jonah was still turning the merits over in his head when he heard a thrashing in the woods to his right. He thought at first that it might be another elk, but then he heard what sounded like someone crying out in pain. "Whut in blazes?" he muttered, then dropped his reins and headed off in the direction of the sound, Ironjaws padding alongside him. As he did so, a figure came running out of the woods towards him, a woven blanket wrapped around their head and shoulders like a cloak. Out of instinct, Hex slipped the rifle off his shoulder and leveled it at the figure, who was so badly startled by the action that they stopped short and tumbled to the ground. Jonah approached the prone figure slowly, saying, "Ah ain't got no beef with yuh, stranger, but Ah don't like it when folks start jumpin' outta nowheres around me, so why don't yuh put up yer hands so's Ah know yo're an alright fella?"

The figure did as Jonah ordered, the blanket falling away as they did so, revealing to Jonah a surprising sight: a young white woman dressed in a buckskin dress and leggings, her blonde hair done up in twin braids. She was gasping for breath as she sat on the ground before him, tears streaking her cheeks. Jonah immediately lowered his rifle at the sight of that and said, "Aw, Lord...Ah'm sorry, ma'am. Ah didn't mean tuh scare yuh half tuh death like thet, but the way yuh done burst outta the woods..."

The words seemed to have no impact on the young woman, who continued to shed tears as she tried to catch her breath. After a moment, she managed to rasp out, "Help me..."

No sooner had the words left her mouth than Ironjaws began growling. Jonah looked over to see a quartet of Indians stepping out of the woods, two of them with bows and arrows at the ready. _Looks like yuh done stepped in it this time, Jonah boy_, he thought as he sized up the newcomers: going by their garb, they appeared to be Crows, though this was much further south than Crows normally traveled. _Might be hidin' out in the mountains from the Army...which means they probably ain't too pleased tuh be runnin' across a white man. Best put 'em at ease right quick._ His knowledge of the Crow language was spotty, so he instead addressed them in the common plains tongue, saying, "Greetings to you, great warriors. I humbly ask your forgiveness for trespassing upon your land."

One of the Crows stepped forward, a rifle of his own in hand. "Forgiveness is granted...but only if you step away from the yellow-hair." He pointed at the young woman, who whimpered at the gesture. "She is my property, and I have traveled many miles to retrieve her."

Inwardly, Jonah bristled at the implication of those words, but tried to keep the anger out of his voice as he said, "I can understand why: she looks to be a rather fine specimen. However, her desire to remain with you seems to be lacking."

"I can remedy that well enough, once she is back in my possession."

"Perhaps...or perhaps it might be more worth your while to trade her? Surely, one of my horses would be more useful to you than a disobedient white girl."

"A fair offer," the Crow replied, "but if I kill you, I can have both the girl _and_ your horses." With a grin, he brought his rifle to bear.

Though the young woman had sat frozen in terror throughout the exchange, seeing that gun come up seemed to break her paralysis. _"No!"_ she cried out, then threw herself at the Crow, knocking him off-balance and causing his shot to whiz past Jonah's head. Unfortunately, it soon found a new target in the form of Jonah's packhorse. The animal screamed and bucked as blood poured out of the bullet hole in its neck, and soon its terror jumped to the saddle horse as well.

Meanwhile, Jonah's own rifle was up and firing, taking aim at the bow-wielding Crows. The fourth Crow warrior had brought out an old cap-and-ball pistol, but Ironjaws knocked him to the ground and took him out just as the wolf had done with the elk hours before. The other two didn't go down so easily: Hex pumped three bullets apiece into the archers before they finally dropped, suffering an arrow to his right bicep in the process. Gritting his teeth, he yanked it out, then moved in to help the young woman, who was still wrestling with her "owner". The Crow had pinned her to the ground and was striking her with his fists when Jonah grabbed him by his long black hair and yanked him off her. "Ah don't take kindly tuh slavery," Jonah said as he stared hard into the Crow's eyes, "an' even less so tuh abusin' women." He then took the arrow still in his hand and jabbed it into the Crow's throat, not stopping until the tip poked out the other side.

Once the Crow's body stopped jerking about, Hex let it fall to the snowy ground, then turned to the young woman - she was curled up in a ball, gasping and crying as he knelt down beside her. "Yuh okay, darlin'?" Jonah asked, then reached out to touch her, but she jerked away. "Ah swear, Ah ain't gonna hurt yuh. Ah just want tuh see whut sort of damage thet jackass did tuh y'all." After a moment, she slowly moved her arms away from her face and let Jonah help her sit up. There were a few cuts on her face and her forearms, along with some bruises, but no serious injuries that Hex could discern. "How far off is their camp? Will it be a while afore they come lookin' fer these fellas?"

Her breath hitched, then she said, "T-two days...two days north...on foot. I don't...I don't know if anyone's...if any..." She began to shake, then fell against Jonah's chest, her hands clutching tightly at his coat as the tears came out even harder than before.

Hex stiffened a little at this, then gently put his arms around her and stroked her cornsilk hair, whispering, "Hush now, little girl. Yo're safe with me, Ah swear. Hush..." When it seemed that the young woman was getting a hold of herself, Jonah said, "We should get a move-on, now. This snow's just gonna keep comin', an' there ain't no place tuh hunker down out here." He put a hand under her chin and turned her face up to his. "Do yuh trust me, sugar?"

She nodded, and Jonah helped her to her feet, saying, "Okay then, let's grab the horses an'..." He paused when he looked to where he'd left the horses and saw nothing but trampled earth. "God-_dammit_!" he shouted, then left the girl's side and stomped over to the spot. There was a blood trail from the one that had been shot, which his eyes quickly followed to where the packhorse had finally collapsed and died about thirty feet further into the woods. Hex cursed again, then began to search the ground for sign of where his saddle horse ran off to. The hoof prints were in disarray, though, and he couldn't get a good read. He put his fingers in his mouth and gave a whistle in the hope that the horse would still be within earshot, but the only animal that responded to his call was Ironjaws, running over to his side and peering up at him with an eager look. Jonah pushed the wolf away and went back to the young woman, who hadn't moved an inch. "Alright, looks like we're headin' back on foot," he said. "Gonna be a long walk, but Ah reckon we kin manage." He waved a hand towards where he'd shot the elk. "Ah've got tuh fetch some things from over yonder. Y'all wait here 'til Ah..."

"Don't leave!" The young woman's hands latched onto Jonah's sleeve, saying, "Please, don't leave me...please..." Her eyes began to tear up again.

"Listen tuh me, darlin'," he said, and gently touched her cheek. "Ah know thet skunk over there hurt yuh something bad, an' he probably made yuh feel like yuh was lower'n dirt fer a good long while...but it's all over now. Ain't no sense in stayin' scared. If'n yuh'd stayed scared afore, yuh never would've been able to run way in the first place, right?" She nodded, sniffling, and Jonah replied, "Thet's darn right. Mighty brave thing yuh did, runnin' away, an' Ah'm proud of yuh fer doin' it. Now, Ah'm gonna need y'all tuh be brave fer me a little while longer...an' thet means yo're gonna have tuh sit tight 'til Ah get back. Okay?"

"Okay," she said, but she didn't let go of his arm. Instead, she looked into his eyes and asked him, "What's your name?"

"Jonah Hex, ma'am. Mind if'n Ah ask yers?"

There was a long hesitation, as if she had to think of the right answer, then she said, "Emmy...Emmylou Hartley."

The former bounty hunter tugged at the brim of his hat and said with a smile, "Pleased tuh meet yuh, Miss Hartley." She responded with a smile of her own - it was gone quickly, but she did smile - then she slowly let go of Jonah's arm. "Just stay right here," Jonah told her, then looked at Ironjaws and said, "Y'all stay here, too. Ain't no point in both of us goin'."

It only took a few minutes for Jonah to reach where he'd left the butchered elk meat - some snow had begun to accumulate on the bundles, but not nearly enough to bury it just yet. _Gonna be buried soon enough, though_, he thought. _All this meat, an' most of it's just gonna sit here an' go tuh waste 'cause Ah ain't got no way tuh carry it back_. With a sigh, he chose two bundles, then tied lengths of rope to them so he could sling them like packs: one for himself, and one for his new charge. _Thet girl...Emmy...she looks strong enough tuh handle a load like this. Hate tuh do it tuh her, but Ah lost two good horses savin' her hide, so she's gotta help take up the slack._ He retraced his steps one last time, taking a few more sips from his flask as he walked along to try and dull the ache in his bicep from where the arrowhead went in. _Used tuh be easier tuh ignore thet sort of pain_, he thought, _but with me bein' retired an' all, it's been months since Ah've gotten anything worse'n a sliver or a stubbed toe...reckon maybe Ah _am_ gettin' civilized._

The flask was empty when he got back to the scene of the battle, and he felt a moment of panic when he didn't see the girl. "Miss Hartley?" he called out, dropping the bundles. "Emmy? Where'd yuh go?" Then he heard Ironjaws let out a yelp, and turned to see Emmy and the wolf walking towards him from where the packhorse had keeled over - the young woman was toting one of the horse's saddlebags. "Whut in the blue Hell are yuh doin'? Ah told y'all tuh stay right here!" he snapped.

Emmy froze, shrinking away from him slightly. "I...I-I-I thought we should..." She sheepishly held out the saddlebag. "You said it was a long walk."

Jonah didn't understand what she was getting at, then he saw the small pile of waterskins and weapons not far from where the dead Indians lay. "Yuh was gatherin' supplies?" he asked, and when she nodded, he went over to her and put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "Thet was real good of yuh, sugar," he said, "should've thought of thet muhself."

"You're...you're not mad?"

"Not a bit. Yuh just spooked me, is all. Don't go wanderin' off outta muh sight no more, okay? Snow's gettin' thicker by the minute, an' Ah don't want tuh lose yuh."

"You won't lose me," Emmy said, and she smiled for a little longer this time. "Promise."

* * *

"Everything appears right as rain, Mrs. Hex," Doc Pedersen said as he fastened the clasp on his black bag. "Your weight is proper for how far along you are, no complications that I can see...only negative comment I have is that you should be resting more often than you are."

"I know, doctor," Mei Ling replied, "but I don't feel right about just laying in bed when there's so much still to do before the baby comes."

The doctor chuckled. "Like the saying goes: A man's work is from sun to sun, but a mother's work is never done." He nodded his head towards her. "I suppose that goes for expectant mothers, as well." The two of them walked to the front door, and Mei Ling handed the doctor his coat from the peg beside it. As he put it on, he said, "All I ask is that you take a break every couple hours and put your feet up. Remember that wearing yourself out affects the baby as well, and we want that little one to be as healthy as possible when it arrives."

She protectively put a hand upon her stomach. "But everything's all right for now?"

"Couldn't be better." He detected a look of worry in her eyes, though, and he said, "It's perfectly natural to be nervous, Mei Ling, especially with your first. Trust me, you're going to be a superb mother." Doc Pedersen opened the door, and a swirl of snowflakes drifted in. "Well, looks like winter's getting a head-start," he said as they stepped out onto the porch. Less than an inch of snow had fallen so far, but it was enough to put a fine frosting of white across the yard and parts of the porch.

"Do you think it's snowing up in the mountains as well?" Mei Ling asked.

"More than likely." They stood in the yard, and the doctor pointed to the west. "Yep...clouds are a lot darker thataway. It's usually colder up there anyhow, so it'll get its fair share before we get ours."

A shiver ran through Mei Ling, both from cold and worry. "Jonah went hunting up there earlier today. He promised he wouldn't be gone long, but..."

"I doubt that a man like Jonah Hex is going to be done in by a bit of snow. Might take him longer to make it back, however, depending on how heavy it's coming down up there." He then spotted something moving towards them from the direction of the mountains - it was hard to make out through the blowing snow, but it appeared to be a horse. "Well, speak of the Devil...looks like he's already here."

Mei Ling immediately felt relief, and began to walk towards the horse, smiling and waving a hand, but as it got closer, the smile fell away as she saw that there was no rider upon it. She looked at Doc Pedersen, who was already moving forward to take the horse by the reins. The first thing he noticed about the animal was the foam upon its muzzle - he was no veterinarian, but it looked to him like it had been running hard for a good long while. He also saw great splashes of blood across its haunches and buttocks, as well as covering a frayed rope hanging from the saddle.

"Where's Jonah?" Mei Ling said, approaching the doctor. "He would never let his horse just wander off like that." Then she saw the blood, and a shriek leapt out of her throat. "Oh my God..._no_!" Her knees suddenly buckled, and Doc Pedersen had to catch her. "_Where is he? Where's Jonah?_"

"I don't know," the doctor replied, "but don't start panicking yet. That blood could be from the horse for all we know." He turned her suddenly-pallid face away from the animal. "Just calm down...please, calm down. If you don't, there's a chance you might miscarry."

"I don't care!" she sobbed. "I want to know where Jonah is!"

"We'll find him, Mei Ling. I'll go into town and fetch Constable Hart: he's just as good a tracker as your husband. He'll get to the bottom of this, I swear."

Mei Ling heard the words, but they had little effect on her. "Jonah..." she choked out, "Jonah, where are you?"

* * *

At that time, Jonah and Emmylou were hiking down the same rough mountain path Jonah had rode up hours before, the wind whirling the snowflakes around them so much that sometimes the path disappeared altogether. In addition to the elk meat, they each carried a couple of waterskins and a few other small provisions, as well as both Jonah's rifle and the dead Crows' firearms, all loaded in case of trouble. Emmy once more had the woven blanket draped around her, and with the supplies on her back beneath it, she looked like she was hunching over.

Jonah said little as they walked, his mind more on the snow-obscured path before them than conversation. Ironjaws didn't seem to mind the snow at all, and occasionally ran ahead of them for a bit before bounding back over to them, flanking Emmy on the right while Jonah walked along on her left. At one point, Emmy reached down and brushed her fingers across the top of the wolf's head, and it returned the affection by nuzzling its nose against her palm. Seeing this out of the corner of his eye, Jonah said, "Ironjaws don't take to just anybody."

"He seems very sweet," Emmy said. "He reminds me of a dog we had...before..." She looked up at Hex for a moment, then down at the path as they walked. "It's been a long time since I thought about things like that. About my...my parents...and my sister..." Her voice broke, the sound of it partially covered by the wind blowing past them.

"Yuh don't have tuh tell me if'n yuh don't want tuh," he said quietly. "Ah've been through the same sort of thing, long time ago...it takes a while tuh put it behind yuh."

She looked up at him again, but differently. "The Crow took you away too?"

"Apache, actually, but...yeah." That wasn't exactly right, but it was close enough.

"And they...kept you? Like they kept me?"

"Ah doubt Ah was kept in the same fashion as yerself."

"I suppose you're right." Silence fell between them, broken only by gusts of wind. Then she asked, "How long were you with them?"

"Three years...two bad, one good." He glanced over at Emmy. "It's complicated."

Her brow furrowed a little. "I think...it was three years for me, too. I don't know. I kind of...went away sometimes...in my head. It made things easier, especially after my sister..." Her jaw clenched, and it didn't seem as if she would continue, then she said, "Not long after they took us, my sister...she got hold of a gun and killed herself. Before she did, she told me I'd have to do the same, but I couldn't, because I knew...I know that's a sin, and I'm...my mother always said I was a good girl." There was a hitch in her breath, but she didn't cry, she simply looked up at Jonah and said, "I'm still a good girl, no matter what they did to me...right, Mr. Hex?"

Before he could answer, the wind whipped up higher, and Jonah put a hand on the crown of his hat to keep it in place. It slipped off anyways, and he went to grab it out of the air, but it blew out of reach. Emmy soon joined in, running forward as the wind carried it further down the path. Unfortunately, it wasn't until she was a good ten feet ahead of him that the blowing snow parted enough for Jonah to see where she was headed. "Emmy, stop!" he yelled, but it was too late: the young woman's feet hit a patch of loose rock on the edge of the path, and she began to tumble down a sharp incline. Jonah dropped the supplies he was carrying and rushed forward to grab hold of her, but only managed to catch the end of the blanket she'd wrapped herself in - Emmy had a hold of the other end, but not by much. As if mocking their predicament, Jonah's hat continued to whirl in the air about them, until it too tumbled down the incline and out of sight.

"Help me!" Emmy yelled as she lay against the nearly-vertical incline. "I'm gonna fall!"

"No, yo're not! Ah've got a good hold on this here blanket, an' this ain't so steep thet yuh cain't get yer feet under yuh. Just try an' pull yer legs up, sugar." She did as he asked, but the snow-covered rock was too slippery beneath her moccasins. "Okay...okay, we're gonna try something else: Ah'm gonna start pullin' yuh up, an' y'all just hold on tight an' keep yerself from swingin' about. Kin yuh do thet fer me, sugar?" Emmy nodded, and with a grunt, Jonah began pulling up the blanket hand over hand. Slowly, she moved back up the incline, though the strain of the task was quickly taking its toll on Jonah's wounded bicep: he could feel fresh blood running down his arm, despite the makeshift bandage he'd wrapped around it. "Ignore it...just ignore it," he said through gritted teeth. "Swallow the damn pain an' keep on..."

The blanket slipped out of his right hand, and Jonah lunged forward to grab it again, only to lose his own footing on the rocky edge. While he didn't go over, he did fall down to a sitting position, his right leg crumpling beneath him and smacking hard against a large wedge of rock. It hurt so bad that he cried aloud, but he didn't let go of the blanket again, he just kept on pulling. Ironjaws soon took hold of the blanket as well, providing some much-needed help to its master as Emmy finally reached level ground again. They both fell flat on the ground, Jonah on his back and Emmy laying beside him with her arms around his neck. "Thank you...oh God, thank you," she gasped.

Jonah grunted in reply, his teeth still gritted against the pain - his leg felt like a mass of screaming nerves, and his arm was throbbing in time with his pounding heartbeat. He managed to push Emmy away, then tried to sit up and straighten his legs, but that just made things worse. _Not good_, he thought, and looked at the lower half of his right leg, which was bent at an odd angle. _Definitely not good._

Emmy now saw what he was seeing, and asked, "Is it broken?"

"Either thet, or Ah just grew a whole 'nother joint," he said, and placed his hands on either side of his boot - that action made him cry out all over again, and Ironjaws responded to its master's howl in kind. "Shut up, yuh stupid mutt," he said to the wolf, then looked at Emmy. "Cain't tell how bad...boot's gonna have tuh come off." He tried to slip it off as carefully as possible, but even the slightest movement made the pain worse, and he eventually gave up and fell flat on his back again. Puffs of white came from his mouth as he lay there panting, his mind reeling back to the last time he'd injured his leg like this: Gettysburg. He'd been riding across the battlefield and something exploded nearby, and his horse had run into the ground. Bad fall, shrapnel everywhere, and his legs...his legs were a mess. Blood soaking his trousers. Pain shooting up to his groin. He remembered the hot July sun beating down upon him, and the sweat rolling down his face as he called out for help...someone...anyone...please...

"Please wake up, Mr. Hex!" Emmy said as she lightly slapped Jonah's cheek. "Don't die! Please, don't die!"

Jonah's eyes fluttered open, and he stared up at her in confusion, images of Gettysburg fading away from his mind...but the sweat on his face remained, contrary to the chills that gripped his body. _Shock,_ he said to himself, _yo're goin' into shock. 'Tween yer busted leg, the blood yuh lost afore, an' the cold out here, yer body just cain't take it no more_. "Not...not gonna die, sugar," he managed to slur out, "but Ah ain't in good shape. Don't know how long...Ah kin..." It suddenly felt like the world was receding way from him, but he fought against it by reaching up and digging his fingers into the wound on his bicep - the fresh pain briefly brought everything back into focus. "_Ngggh_...Ah ain't gonna say this twice, so listen close: Ah need y'all tuh fix up muh leg. Get the boot off an' splint it. Kin yuh handle thet, sugar?"

"I suppose..."

"Ain't no 'suppose' about it!" Jonah snapped. "Ah'm countin' on yuh here, so yuh better be damn sure! Now, _kin yuh handle thet_?" Though her face was pinched from worry, she nodded her head vigorously, and Jonah said, "Good girl. Now, when thet's done, we need tuh move up thetaways." He waved a hand back the way they'd come. "We passed by an overhanging of rock...kinda small, but it'll give us some shelter. Build a fire...nice big one. Don't let...don't let me get...dammit..." Everything was receding again, to the point where he wasn't even sure if he was still talking aloud. "Need y'all tuh be brave, Emmy...know yuh kin be...real brave girl..."

"I will be, Mr. Hex." Emmy's voice was a hundred miles away. A flare of pain slammed into him as her hands touched his boot, but he did his best to stay quiet so as to not unnerve her. From a thousand miles away now, Emmy said, "It won't come off."

"Cut..." Jonah tried to say, his mostly-numb hand fumbling at his belt for his hunting knife. Then another hand touched his and pulled it out of the sheath for him.

It was the last sensation he was conscious of.

* * *

J.D. Hart moved down the streets of Cheyenne at a brisk pace. He'd just finished speaking with Doc Pedersen about the situation out at the Hex homestead, and both men agreed that a search party was definitely in order. They then split up to go find volunteers around town, with Hart heading for a place he knew that was not only full of able-bodied riders, but ones that also cared very much about Jonah's well-being.

"Listen up, gents," Hart called out as he pushed open the batwing doors of the Roundyard Saloon. "I just got word that Jonah Hex might be in trouble up in the mountains. He's been gone since a little past sunup, and his horse just sauntered home carrying nothing but a saddle and bloodstains. I need as many men as possible to accompany me into the foothills so we can find him and make sure he's okay."

Over at the poker table, Findley, Mike, Loy, Izzy, and Larkin sat in silence, staring at the constable. Eventually, Loy found his tongue and said, "You're kidding, right?"

"No joke. The doc says his wife's damn-near hysterical, too, so the sooner we bring him home, the better. So, who's up for a ride?"

Five chairs squealed at once as the men got up from the poker table, and Hart nodded in approval. "I've got a couple more stops to make," he told them, "so y'all meet me at the livery within twenty minutes. And make sure you've each got a firearm of some sort, just in case."

As the Roundyarders filed out, Miss Crawford stepped over to Hart and asked, "What about Mei Ling during all this? She shouldn't be alone right now."

"Don't worry, Mrs. Pedersen is keeping an eye on her. The doc..." He stopped when he noticed a stranger getting up from the far end of the bar and walking towards him. Hart had seen the man there when he came in, but being a stranger in town, Hart hadn't thought to ask the man for help in the matter at hand.

"Pardon my interruptin'," the roughly-dressed man said, "but who did you say y'all was goin' out lookin' for?"

"Jonah Hex," Hart replied. "Why, do you know something about where he might be?"

"Currently? No." An odd smirk crept into the corner of the man's mouth when he said that. "I'm just familiar with the name, is all, and his reputation."

"Well, good for you, mister," Miss Crawford said with a sniff.

"It's Cochrane," the man offered, "and though I was just passin' through, I think I can spare myself for a while to help you in your search."

"I appreciate that, Mr. Cochrane." Hart turned towards the batwings, saying, "Be at the livery in twenty, same as the rest."

"With bells on," Cochrane said, that odd smirk still in place.

* * *

Jonah felt like he was drowning in quicksand: every time he struggled his way to the edge of consciousness, the weight of his injuries forced him back down even deeper than before. But that just made Jonah struggle even harder, for despite what he'd told Emmy, he knew good and well that a man could die of shock, and the longer he was unconscious, the worse off he'd be. So he fought, inch by inch, pushing past the pain until the real world began to trickle back in. First it was the smell of meat cooking, then the warmth and soft glow of a fire - he focused his mind on these things, letting them draw him up from the darkness like a lifeline. Eventually, he managed the strength to open his eyes and saw rough-hewn rock arcing a few feet above his head. _Good girl_, he thought, and slowly turned his head to see Emmy kneeling next to the fire she'd made. Beyond her, Jonah could see the path and part of the sky - the snow had stopped, and it appeared to be around dusk.

Ironjaws was laying next to the fire, and the wolf let out a yip when it saw Jonah moving. The noise startled Emmy, but when she saw the reason for the commotion, she almost burst into tears. "You're alive!" she said, and put her arms around Jonah's neck. "Oh my God, you've been out for hours, but I couldn't wake you up, and I didn't know what else to do..."

"Hush now," Jonah croaked, "Ah think Ah'm past the worst of it." His leg still throbbed like mad, but the chills and sweating had stopped, which he took as a good sign. Loosening her grip around his neck, he asked, "Did yuh do like Ah told yuh?"

Emmy nodded, then pulled aside the blanket she'd laid over Jonah: his injured leg was propped up on a saddlebag, and splinted with a couple of whittled-down branches and strips of cloth. "I'm sorry about your boot, Mr. Hex, but I had to cut the whole thing off."

"Thet's okay, sugar," he said, though he silently mourned the loss of a nice pair of boots. "How did it look? There any bone stickin' out?"

"No...there was some blood where the skin broke open, and it's pretty bruised and swollen in places. I cleaned it up before I wrapped it, but when I tried to straighten it out, you started yelling, so I stopped."

"Best thet yuh didn't, anyhow." Jonah propped himself up on his elbows to get a better look at her handiwork. "Gonna be tough gettin' down the mountain like this. Hate tuh say it, but yuh might have tuh head down tuh Cheyenne by yer lonesome."

Emmy's eyes widened, and she shook her head, pigtails bouncing back and forth. "I won't leave you! Never! I felt bad enough leaving you to get firewood."

"If'n thet's the case, then yo're gonna have tuh wait 'til Ah kin stand halfway decent afore we kin hit the trail again. Probably won't be 'til mornin', though." He let out a snort and muttered, "This ain't exactly how Ah planned on spendin' muh birthday."

"Is it really your birthday?" she asked, and when he nodded, a look of guilt crossed her face. "I ruined your whole day, didn't I?"

"Don't y'all worry 'bout it one bit, sugar. Weren't nobody else out here thet could've helped yuh, an' considerin' whut yuh've been through, Ah reckon Ah kin put up with a busted leg if'n it means yo're safe now."

"You really mean it?"

He smiled at her. "God's honest truth."

Emmy's face lit up at that. "Thank you, Mr. Hex."

"An' yuh kin stop with the 'Mr. Hex' nonsense. Anybody thet patches me up like y'all did kin call me Jonah."

"Okay...Jonah." She turned back to the fire, saying, "I hope you don't mind, but I cooked up some of that meat. I saved some for you." They had no cooking utensils, so Emmy had skewered bits of meat on a stick, which she now brought over to Jonah along with a waterskin.

"Ah appreciate the gesture, darlin', but Ah ain't all thet hungry right now." He laid back again, saying, "Maybe later, when Ah'm feelin' a bit more up tuh it."

"But...but I thought you were better now. You're not going to pass out again, are you?"

"No, Ah ain't passin' out. Ah just need tuh rest a while longer, is all."

"Okay." Emmy set the food down and sat quietly, watching Jonah as he shifted beneath the blanket. "Are you cold?" she asked after a while.

"Maybe a touch, but Ah'll be alright." To his surprise, Emmy lifted the blanket and laid down next to him, adding her body heat to his. "Look, yuh don't have tuh do thet. Ah'm fine."

"I know." But Emmy didn't move. They lay there in silence, Emmy's breath tickling the side of Jonah's neck. Despite the awkward situation, Jonah soon found himself falling into a light doze, and he tried to fight against it, not wanting to risk the chance of slipping back into shock. Emmy picked up on his unease and asked, "What's wrong?"

"Nothin', Ah'm just..." He looked over at her, laying beside him with one arm tucked beneath her head, and was suddenly struck by how much she looked like Cassie: same sort of hair, same eyes, same lips...the resemblance wasn't exact, but it was enough to stir old memories, ones that were quite inappropriate at that moment. He quickly turned his head away, feeling a flush come to his cheeks. "Ah think yuh should get up," he said, his voice strained.

"Why are you mad at me?"

"Ah ain't mad."

"Then why are you acting like you are? I'll do anything you ask, just tell me what's wrong."

Jonah sighed. "Yo're...yuh just remind me of somebody, thet's all." A pause, then: "She died a long time ago."

"Was it the Apache?"

"No, this was after all thet. There was a robbery, an' she was murdered." It was strange how easily the words came out: when he'd told Mei Ling about Cassie, it felt like torture, but it didn't feel that way at all with Emmy. Perhaps it was due to exhaustion clouding his mind, or their shared experience of captivity, but Jonah thought that Emmy was more capable of understanding those old pains in his heart than Mei Ling ever could. "We were gonna get married, her an' me, but...Ah never got the chance."

Laying a hand upon Jonah's chest, she asked, "You miss her?"

"Yes...God, yes, Ah miss her."

Without a word, Emmy slipped her other hand beneath Jonah's head, then turned his face towards hers and kissed him, long and deep. Jonah didn't resist, didn't pull away, instead bringing his own hands up and caressing her body, the buckskin dress she wore being the only thing separating him from her slim curves. Emmy responded in kind, running her other hand down Jonah's chest and towards his beltline - he gasped, but not from pain, that having been driven far from his mind for the moment. Many other things had been driven from his mind as well, and pleasing the woman before him was the only thought he was currently capable of forming.

Emmy was beginning to slip out of her dress when Ironjaws suddenly leapt up, running away from the fire and down the path. The action startled Emmy, but Jonah grabbed hold of her and pulled her down, whispering, "Forget it...better without him watchin'." He sank his hands into her cornsilk hair and kissed her hard on the lips, then worked his way down to her neck, then further than that. His leg shifted, bringing a sudden stab of pain, but he ignored it and went on - with his leg all bandaged up, there was only so much they could do, but that didn't deter them much. Emmy opened up his shirt and longjohns, then began kissing his bare chest, and Jonah leaned back and closed his eyes, his head beginning to swim from the feeling of this young woman's skin against his. As he lay there, he thought he imagined the wind howling his name...then he sat up abruptly when he realized he wasn't imagining things.

"What is it...what..." Emmy gasped, putting her arms around his shoulders, then she also heard Jonah's name being called, along with the far-off yelping of Ironjaws. "Somebody's come looking for you?"

"Reckon so." He tried to not sound disappointed. "Get yer clothes on, sugar. Company's comin'." As they hastily made themselves more presentable, Jonah said, "Take a stick from the fire an' signal 'em...an' be careful out there." She did as ordered, soon moving down the path and out of Jonah's line of sight. About fifteen minutes later, he saw Ironjaws trotting back up the path, with Emmy, Constable Hart, and a few others not far behind. Jonah forced a smile onto his face as he said, "Y'all just out fer a stroll, J.D.?"

Hart ducked under the overhang of rock and knelt beside Jonah. "Hex, you ornery cuss. What sort of trouble did you dig up this time?"

"Nothin' special: killed some Indians, rescued a girl, broke muh leg." He waved a hand at the injury in question. "Typical retirement activities."

"For you, maybe," Hart replied with a laugh. "Come on, I've got a horse that we can toss your sorry ass onto." He helped Jonah hobble to his feet. "You okay? Looks like you're sweating."

"Shock," Jonah explained, rather quickly. He kept his eyes averted from Emmylou as Hart guided him towards the horse. "Did a fine job of trackin', J.D.: Ah would figure thet the storm blowin' through couldn't have made yer job easy."

"Wasn't all me." Hart nodded towards a man who was hanging near the back of the search party. "Mr. Cochrane over there spotted your hat laying a ways down the mountain, and we picked up on your back trail not long after."

At the mention of his name, Cochrane stepped forward, holding out Jonah's Confederate officer's hat and saying, "Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Hex."

"Likewise, Ah reckon." Jonah took his hat and put it back on. "Thanks fer findin' this fer me. Rather fond of this hat."

"I hope you earned it proper," Cochrane said.

"'Course Ah did: 7th Virginia, an' proud of it. We may've lost in the end, but Ah ain't never gonna deny muh place in it all."

"Good to know." Cochrane stepped aside to let Hart help Jonah onto the horse.

* * *

It was full dark by the time they got within sight of Doc Pedersen's house. Some of the search party, including Cochrane, had split off by then, returning to their own homes or back to Cheyenne for one last nip at the Roundyard. Hart had continued on with Jonah and Emmy, with Jonah filling the constable in on how exactly he'd come across the girl. When it came to what had transpired just before the search party found them, however, the former bounty hunter kept mum. To his relief, Emmy didn't say a word throughout the journey, though she occasionally turned her head to look Jonah's way. Jonah never returned the glances.

Candles burned in the windows of the Pedersen homestead, and the front door opened not long after Hart and the others stopped their horses in the yard. "Thank the Lord," Doc Pedersen said as he stepped into the yard. "Glad to see you're safe and sound, Mr. Hex." He paused when he caught sight of Emmy dismounting from one of the horses. "And who might this be?"

The constable said, "You remember the Hartley party? Went missing up in the mountains around three, four years back?" He nodded towards the young woman. "This is their daughter, Emmylou."

"Well, now, this is turning out to be a night to remember," the doctor said, then turned towards his wife, who was standing in the open doorway. "Best prepare the spare room, Judith. I think we're going to be having a guest for a while." Pedersen stepped towards Emmy and made to usher her towards the house, but the young woman shied away and moved instead towards Jonah, who had dismounted as well and draped his right arm over Hart's shoulders for support.

"I don't want to stay with him," she said to Jonah, taking hold of his other arm and standing rather close. "Why can't I stay with you?"

Jonah felt flush again. "Don't fret none, little girl. These are good folks here, an' yuh know Ah wouldn't leave yuh with nobody thet'd hurt yuh, right?" Emmy nodded, and Jonah said, "Okay, then, y'all go inside with the doc, an' Ah'll be right behind yuh."

Obedient to the last, Emmy let Doc Pedersen lead her to the house as Jonah hobbled along with Hart at his side and Ironjaws trotting behind. The constable looked at Jonah out of the corner of his eye, saying, "Seems that Emmylou's gotten pretty attached to you."

There was no answer from Hex, who kept his eyes fixed on the ground as they carefully navigated the porch steps and moved into the warmth of the house. Once inside, Jonah heard someone gasp, and looked up to see Mei Ling standing not far from the doorway. "Oh, Jonah," she said, putting her arms around him and laying her head against his chest, "what happened to you? I was afraid you'd died up there."

It took him a moment to find his tongue, then he said, "Ah just broke muh leg, sugar, thet's all. Ah'll be laid up fer a while, but..." He stopped talking when he caught sight of Emmy, halfway down the main hall with Mrs. Pedersen - the poor girl appeared crestfallen, but stayed silent. "Ah just broke muh leg," he repeated to his wife.

Hart stepped away from the two of them once he was sure Jonah was steady. "You should be proud of your husband, Mei Ling: he saved that girl's life up in the mountains." He then looked dead into Jonah's eyes as he said, "I know how much he loves you, so I'm sure he didn't mean to make you worry."

"I know he didn't," Mei Ling said. She looked into Jonah's eyes herself now, smiling as she put her hands on either side of his face. "Promise me that you won't go hunting anymore, at least not until spring. I don't think I could take another night like this."

"Ah promise." The words sounded dead when they came out of Jonah's mouth, but Mei Ling didn't seem to notice. Still smiling, she laid her head against his chest again and gave him a hug. Jonah returned the gesture, his eyes casting about the room in an effort to look anywhere but in the direction of Emmy or the constable. Then he saw a large oval mirror next to the front door, framing the image of himself and Mei Ling standing there in a warm, loving embrace. For a long time, Jonah Hex looked at his reflection in the mirror...

...and he didn't like what was looking back.


	6. The Ghost of Presents Past

**THE GHOST OF PRESENTS PAST**

_**1871:**_

"Good to see you up and about, Mr. Hex," Malloy said to the customer that just stepped into the general store. "Been wonderin' when you'd be back in town."

"Just tryin' tuh take it slow, is all. Don't want tuh go an' bust muh damn leg all over again." It had been six weeks since Jonah Hex had been injured while hunting up in the mountains, and though his leg had healed enough to bear his full weight, there was still an obvious limp in his walk as he made his way to the counter.

"You're lucky a busted leg is all you got. Ain't many folks that've walked away intact from bein' jumped by Injuns."

"Thet may be so, but they ain't the reason muh leg got broke. Not directly." Jonah leaned against the counter. "Put a decent hole in muh arm, though, but it weren't nothin' tuh write home about."

"That's not the way the Hartley gal tells it," Malloy said. "She makes it sound like you was bleedin' like a stuck pig while you fought off the whole damn tribe barehanded."

"Miss Hartley has exaggerated things a touch." Jonah paused, then asked with a slight amount of apprehension, "Whut else is she sayin'?"

"Not much, least not about herself. She talks to damn-near everybody about _you_, though." He waved a hand towards the street, saying, "She's workin' at the hotel in exchange for room and board, if you want to see her."

"No, Ah don't." Outwardly, Jonah tried to show no emotion, but inside was a different story. His mind had been fixated for six whole weeks on what happened between himself and Emmylou Hartley up in those mountains, part of him wishing that he could wipe away that indiscretion while another part of him reveled in the memory of it. He supposed that, if he was a more religious man, he'd go have a sit-down with a priest and confess his sins, but the last thing he wanted to do right now was tell anybody about this. Good Lord, if word of what he did ever got back to...

"...Mei Ling?"

"Whuh?" Jonah snapped out of his rumination at the sound of his wife's name and stared at Malloy. "Whut did yuh say?"

"I said, 'How's Mei Ling?'"

"Fine...Mei Ling's fine." Suddenly remembering why he'd come into the general store, he said, "She sent me tuh pick up a few things."

Malloy nodded. "Figured this wasn't just a social call. Got a list?" Jonah produced one from inside his coat, and Malloy set about tracking down the items. As he plucked things off the shelves, he asked Jonah, "So, the two of you gonna come into town for the New Year's party?"

"Reckon thet depends on her. The baby's been makin' her feel a mite poorly the last few days."

"Well, there's still a couple more weeks 'til the party. A lot can change between here and there." Malloy set some items on the counter. "Surprised that young'un ain't popped out yet: your wife was lookin' pretty close to ready last time she stopped in."

"Ah know, but the doc says the baby won't be gettin' here 'til early February."

"Well, if that's the case, he's gonna be pretty dang big when he finally arrives."

Jonah answered, "Thet's because he's half-Texan. Yuh know everything's bigger down there." The two men had a good chuckle over that, and Jonah felt some of his unease fade away. As Malloy walked off to get some more items on the list, Jonah let his eyes wander over the other merchandise displayed nearby on the counter: jars of brightly-colored penny candy, a stack of woolen blankets, and a single wooden box. To Jonah, the last item looked to be about the right size and shape for cigars, and not being one to pass up a good smoke, he opened the lid to see what kind they were. The items that lay inside, however, were certainly not cigars.

They were soldiers, two dozen in all, each about three inches high and cast in lead - half of them resembled Colonial minutemen, the other half British redcoats. A few of the tiny men were on horseback, and a few more were kneeling down to take aim at the enemy with their miniscule flintlocks. There was even a pair of cannons nestled within the felt-lined box. Malloy saw Jonah looking at the box and said, "Oh, I see you found my little battalion." He came over and pulled out one of the soldiers, saying, "I got them from a company back east, along with some other toys. There ain't a lot of kids livin' in Cheyenne yet, but I like to keep a few things on hand for Christmas, just in case. Rest of 'em sold, but nobody really seems interested in these fellas."

"Thet's a shame," Jonah said quietly, his gaze not moving from the box's contents.

"Yeah. Reckon the War's made a lot of people think twice 'bout lettin' their boys play with toy soldiers." He shrugged. "Christmas ain't for another week, though. Might be able to sell them before that." Malloy put the figure back in place, then went back to work.

Jonah continued to look at the soldiers, pulling off one of his gloves so he could run his bare hand over them. There was a series of scars across the palm of that hand, once very evident but now stretched and faded as his hands had grown and acquired newer wounds. He could still remember how those scars looked when they were new, however, and what it had felt like to receive them. It's hard to forget your first battle.

He closed his eyes, and it all came back to him...

* * *

_**1841:**_

_He keeps his eyes closed because Ma tells him to, but she doesn't tell him why, even though he keeps asking her as she steers him down the hall very early in the morning. Jonah is three, and he is always asking questions, like why does snow melt inside the house but not outside, and where does Pa go when he puts all those bottles in the wagon. It's been a long time since Pa last rode away with the bottles, but Jonah doesn't mind because Ma seems happier when Pa isn't home. She smiles, and she dresses pretty, and sometimes somebody will visit with her while Jonah plays outside. Jonah doesn't always know who they are, but they're always men. Jonah thinks they might be friends with Pa, but when he asks Ma about them, she doesn't tell him, just like she won't tell him why he has to keep his eyes closed right now._

_He knows when he reaches the main room, because he can feel the warmth from the fireplace (and that's why the snow melts inside the house, he remembers that), and Ma tells Jonah to stop and turns him just a little to the right, and then she says Open your eyes, so he does. He opens them very wide because he doesn't understand what he's seeing, and he asks Ma why there is a tree in the house, and Ma tells him that it's a special tree, a Christmas tree. Jonah knows what Christmas is, and he knows about baby Jesus and the manger and the special star in the sky, but he's never heard of a Christmas tree before, and says so. And then Ma tells him about how her grandparents came from a place called The Old Country, and that they would always cut down a tree and decorate it for Christmas. She calls it a tradition, and though very few people outside of The Old Country do it, she wanted to teach this tradition to her son. This doesn't make a lot of sense to Jonah, but he thinks the tree is very pretty with the little candles sitting on the branches and the ribbons wrapped around it. Then Ma brings him closer to the tree and sits him down and hands him a wooden box tied with ribbon like on the tree. She says This is for you, and Jonah pulls off the ribbon and opens it. His eyes open even wider now when he sees the toy soldiers, all blue and red, and he looks up at Ma and asks if all of these are really for him and she says Yes every one of them, and Jonah throws his arms around Ma's neck and kisses her._

_After breakfast, Jonah sets up his soldiers all over the floor. They march in straight lines in front of the fireplace, and they fight battles beneath the tree, and around midday Ma joins him and tells him about another Christmas a very long time ago when General Washington (who Ma says is the man in blue on the little horse) took his soldiers across the Delaware River to surprise the British. So they make up a new game by laying a blue scarf of Ma's on the floor and putting a small piece of kindling on it for a boat, and Jonah plays Crossing the Delaware until suppertime. Ma serves up a whole chicken for just the two of them, and Jonah eats very fast so he can go back to his soldiers. He plays until Ma tells him it's time for bed, so he carefully puts his soldiers back into the box and places it back under the tree. He asks Ma how long can they can keep the tree in the house, and Ma says As long as you want, and Jonah says he wants to keep it forever, and Ma scoops him up and hugs him and carries him down the hall to his bed._

_In his dreams that night, Jonah is riding the horse and the blue soldiers march behind him and their guns go pop-pop-pop and make the red soldiers fall down. He laughs and claps his hands and all the soldiers get back up so they can play again under the big Christmas tree with its ribbons as wide as a country road and candles that sparkle like stars. They're halfway through their third fight when Jonah hears thunder rumbling over the battlefield, and suddenly he's not a brave blue soldier anymore, he's a scared little boy, because the thunder isn't thunder, it's Pa yelling, and Jonah sits up in bed and he can hear Ma crying as Pa calls her a whore, a stinking whore. Jonah doesn't know what the word means, but he's heard Pa say it many times before, especially after Pa's drank a lot of those bottles that he puts in the wagon._

_Jonah gets out of bed and creeps down the hall to the main room, where he sees Pa standing over Ma, and he still has his coat on as he hits her and says that he can't leave her alone for one damn minute without her spreading her legs for any man she sees. Ma denies it, but that just makes Pa angrier, and he starts grabbing things and throwing them and making an awful mess. Then Pa grabs hold of the Christmas tree and knocks it right over onto Ma, and then he kicks the box of toy soldiers and it flies into the fireplace and breaks apart. Jonah screams NO! and runs towards the fireplace, and he sees that the little lead soldiers are melting from the heat and their fine paint is burning off. Then he sees one of the soldiers laying on the hearth and it looks okay so he grabs it and it's HOT but Jonah won't let go, not even when Pa smacks him and knocks him to the floor. Now Pa is yelling at him and hitting him and Jonah is so mad at Pa that he yells and hits back, but it's useless, he's only three, and soon he can't stand up anymore and he falls to the floor again but Pa doesn't stop hitting him. Then he hears Ma shout and she gets up and grabs Pa's arm, and Pa turns his attention back to her while Jonah lays on the floor and cries because his hand hurts and his body hurts and he wishes that Pa would just go away and never ever ever come home._

* * *

_**1871:**_

"I'm glad you're home," Mei Ling said as Jonah entered the bedroom. She was laying on the bed, resting on her side to try and take some of the pressure off her legs and back. "I kept imagining something terrible was going to happen to you."

Jonah sat next to her, saying, "Yuh gotta stop doin' thet tuh yerself, sugar. Just 'cause Ah had one little accident don't mean thet Ah cain't take care of muhself no more." He leaned close to give her a kiss on the cheek. "Feelin' any better?"

"Still tired, but I'll be all right." She rested a hand on her ample belly. "Some days it feels like I'll be pregnant forever."

"Thank the Lord thet it ain't gonna be so." He laid his own hand over hers, then said, "Think the two of yuh are up fer makin' some supper tonight?" She nodded, and Jonah helped Mei Ling to her feet. As they made their way down the hall, Jonah spied Ironjaws padding across the floor towards the kitchen table, and before he knew it, the wolf had its front paws on the table and started nosing around inside the satchel Jonah laid upon it. "Hey, quit thet!" he shouted, but Ironjaws was too absorbed by the interesting smells in there, so Jonah grabbed the wolf by the scruff of its neck and yanked it away. "Dammit, if'n yuh want tuh stay in the house fer the winter, yo're gonna have tuh learn tuh listen." The lecture went right over the wolf's head, and it tried to go back to the satchel the moment Jonah let go. Grabbing Ironjaws again, Jonah knelt down in front of the animal and stared it right in the eye, saying, "Ah'm gonna lock yuh in the barn if'n yuh don't quit. Yuh hear me, yuh damn flea factory? Ah'm gonna march yer furry butt right out there an'..."

"What's this?"

Jonah turned his attention away from the wolf and saw Mei Ling pulling a wooden box out of the satchel. Before Jonah could say otherwise, she opened it and looked at the tiny soldiers laying inside. "You bought toys?" she asked.

"Just...just the one," he replied quietly.

Mei Ling smiled at him and said, "I would have thought you were a bit old for toys."

"It ain't fer me." He stood up and walked over to her, paying no mind this time to when Ironjaws went back into the satchel. "Ah thought maybe it'd be nice fer the baby. Not right away, of course, but maybe when he's a few years older..."

"What if he's a she?" Mei Ling interjected. She'd been teasing him about the possibility of it being a girl for months now.

Jonah shook his head, refusing to be baited. "Ah don't care whut the baby is, Ah just...Ah want them tuh have it. Thet's all."

Mei Ling could see something lurking in Jonah's eyes as he spoke. He'd been acting a little odd the past six weeks, and while this was odd as well, it was a decidedly different sort of odd. She could tell that there was some meaning behind Jonah's desire to buy the soldiers, and though he didn't voice it now, perhaps he would later on. "Okay," she said, and set the box down upon the table. "I don't like the idea of our child playing with such a thing, but if you want them to have it, I suppose I can agree."

Slowly, Jonah drew her into a hug, and after standing there together for a while, he said, "Ah was thinkin' on the way home."

"About what?"

"Well, Ah know yuh ain't Christian an' all, but Ah was wonderin' if maybe we could set up a Christmas tree."

"What for?"

A rare expression of warmth came over Jonah's scarred face. "It's a tradition," he said.


	7. Auld Lang Syne

_Note: This chapter was co-written by Don Walsh, who wrote many a Johnny Thunder fill-in issue for WWQ, and agreed that this was a perfect opportunity for our two storylines to dovetail, if only for a night. And if you like what you see here, go over to the main DC2 site and check out Don's entire JT saga in WWQ#11, 14, 15, 17 & 18, plus a lil' side-story in WEIRD WESTERN SPECTACULAR #1._

**AULD LANG SYNE**

_**December 31, 1871, 4:35 pm (twenty miles outside of Cheyenne, Wyoming):**_

The rattling roar of the iron horse filled the air, as much if not more than the flood of sparks and clouds of smoke from the smokestacks. Despite all of this sensory overload, however, it failed to interrupt Jeanne Walker's thoughts.

The petite photographer stared off to one side, but none of the speeding scenery registered with her. Her thoughts were hundreds of miles south, left in the territory of Arizona with two men. She sighed heavily as she tried to figure out her life. It had all started easily enough, if tragically. Her father ruined by a ruthless prospecting partner; drained emotionally as well as monetarily, and all Jeanne could do was watch him drink himself away. The town drunk, a laughingstock, a joke to one and all, that's all that was left of her father when he passed away.

That gave her a mission, a goal in life. Her purpose became to expose those predators who ruined hard-working people like her father, and the best way to do that was to put their own tactics to work against them. She became the outlaw Madame .44 and wormed into their trust, and when she had milked some weasel out of his money, she set them up for the fall and took the money to the people who needed it. The people who earned it. She smiled at the faces of those she had sent up the river over the last three years of being the good Madame. It worked perfectly. She had a reputation as a ruthless snake among the lawmen, and earned her credit as a dangerous but worthy ally among the lawbreakers, and she didn't care that she knew every blue word they labeled her. She was on a mission and that was all she cared about, by God.

"Johnny," she murmured and her head lolled to one side, her brow bumped onto the window pane. She hadn't cared until she rode down to Mesa City to put a hurt on Silk Black and met Johnny Thunder. She'd tangled with these domino types before, and they were all the same: blood and thunder, righteous arms of the Lord come to smite the wicked, without any real thought to what was happening behind the scenes. They were all so sure of themselves, so full of themselves. But Johnny wasn't actually like his name. He'd been sincere, and earnest; and even unsure, especially around her. She cracked a smile and chuckled as she saw his blushes replay in her mind's eye.

"Gideon," she muttered as the blush faded out from Johnny's cheeks to her own. She gave a much more throaty sigh and shifted a little in her seat. He was handsome, so dynamic and romantic, and he smelled so amazing. She blinked rapidly as the train rattled and shook, then began to sway as it slowed, and Jeanne began to realize it wasn't the thought of the railroad tycoon Gideon Steele that had moved the world just then. _You just tell yourself that, girl. Get your head out of the clouds. He's gorgeous, fine, and he's smart and he's...get your head straight! You're one of the West's most wanted bandits, and you're going to try and land an interview with the biggest, baddest bounty hunter alive, and if you don't have your head together..._

"Jeanne Walker!" The voice called out over the release of steam, clang of bells and general riot of the passengers boarding and departing the train. Jeanne discovered she'd grabbed her suitcase, and her camera bag, then walked down to the platform and not even realized it.

_This isn't good, Jeanne. Forget about the men, and this romantic stuff, and just pay attention to why you're here_, she chided herself as she walked toward the man who now called her name. _Which is to forget about Johnny and Gideon, and get back to your mission._

"Miss Walker? Howdy, I'm Constable J. D. Hart, and it's a pleasure to have you come on out to our little slice of Heaven," said the handsome young man as he tipped his hat to her politely.

"Thank you for the kind greeting, Constable. It's a pleasure to be here," Jeanne replied as she put her bag down and shook his hand. The Constable made a motion to a deputy, who claimed Jeanne's trunk. "There's been so much talked about Cheyenne, that it seemed long overdue I pay it a visit, and let the folks back home take a gander." She ran her fingers through the mussed blond hair as she spoke, and mentally recollected herself now that she had a focus.

"You'll be a welcome addition to our New Year festivities as well," Hart said with a pleasant smile as they walked away from the train station and out onto the streets of the bustling town. "It'll be a chance to meet our people all in one spot, and have some good food. See what Cheyenne's all about."

"I gather you're about the 'Magic City of the Plains' and less about the cutthroats, gamblers and scoundrels that've been collecting here since the rails got finished," she said to him with a smile, and a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

"Well, I gotta admit to having our share of bad people, but I like to think we got a better share of good honest folk that'll make this place the Magic City you Eastern folk like to talk up all the time," Hart countered with no real trace of offense in his voice. "Of course, I know you're playing me a bit, miss, having a little fun with the prairie dog, and that's fine, but I do suggest you be a little more polite at the party."

"You're right, of course," Jeanne answered. "And it's very kind of you to take time out to show me around, and have my trunk taken care of, and settle me in right. You, sir, are a right and proper gentleman." She batted her eyes at him and smiled wider.

"Miss Walker, please," Hart countered now. "I appreciate it, but pretty young things like yourself don't give me eyes like that without reason. Nor do they come out here to take pictures of a town still finding its feet, not in the middle of winter." He stopped her short and turned to look into those beautiful eyes of hers that she'd been wielding against him. "You're here for our newest 'prominent resident', ain't that right?" He winked and then began to lead her down the street again. "It's okay, I don't know why you're playing coy about it, but it's okay."

"You got me, and I apologize," Jeanne said as she gazed away from him and out toward the far end of the wide track of snowy mud that was one of Cheyenne's major streets. "Yeah, Mr. Hex. Man like him decides to settle down, that's good for some papers back East."

"We'll be finding him, I've no doubt." Hart turned her around a corner. "Until then, there are some very pretty sights to see, if you're still interested."

"Sounds like a wonderful way to pass the afternoon, Constable."

* * *

_**5:13 pm (eight miles outside Cheyenne):**_

Crisp white snow crunched beneath the wheels of the buckboard as a pair of horses pulled it along the trail. The sun was nearly down for the day, and a lantern swung from the side of the buckboard to provide some light for the passengers. Jonah Hex steered the horses along, occasionally giving the reins a snap to increase their pace, while Mei Ling sat next to him, wrapped in both a shawl and a blanket to ward off the chill in the air. Despite this, Jonah asked her for the sixth time since they left the house, "Yuh warm enough, darlin'?"

"I'm perfectly fine. You've been worrying too much about me lately." She moved closer to him and rested her head upon his shoulder. "Not that I don't like the extra attention."

"Well, Ah just...Ah don't want yuh tuh feel like...Ah don't know." His mouth twisted slightly, for he certainly did know, he just couldn't say it. The guilt over his brief indiscretion with Emmylou Hartley was still weighing upon him, and he'd been lavishing more attention on his wife over the past two months than he'd done during their entire marriage in the hopes of alleviating it. Sometimes he considered blurting out the truth just to get it out of his system, but he loved Mei Ling too much to break her heart like that. So instead of relieving himself of his burden, Jonah said, "Reckon Ah'm just gettin' anxious fer the baby tuh come."

"So am I. He's been kicking so much lately, I'm afraid he'll break one of my ribs."

"We're back on 'he' again? Given up on wishin' fer a girl?"

"It's hard to think of a girl being so strong. Here." She took hold of one of his hands and laid it upon her swollen belly hidden beneath the blanket. "Do you feel that?"

Jonah didn't feel anything, then something bumped firmly against the palm of his hand three times. "Lord, fer such a little thing, he kicks like a mule."

Mei Ling nodded, saying, "He woke me up last night with that. Just drumming away." She smiled. "A typical Monkey: very energetic."

Jonah pulled his hand away. "Did Ah just hear yuh call our baby a monkey?"

"That's what he'll be if he's born after the New Year."

"Of course he'll be born after New Year's. Thet's tonight, an' the baby ain't comin' 'til February."

Mei Ling laughed and said, "No, not the Christian New Year, the Chinese New Year. In China, we follow a different calendar, and by tradition, we name each year after one of the twelve animals in our zodiac. When our New Year comes in February, the next animal in the cycle will be the Monkey." She patted her belly. "Our child will then take on some of the Monkey's attributes."

"So yo're sayin' our boy's gonna have fur an' a tail?"

"Not _physical_ attributes, more...spiritual. Monkeys are talented, free spirits. He will be very loving, and very lucky."

"Hmph...an' whut if'n he's born afore Chinese New Year?"

"Then he will be the same as me: a Goat. Still creative, but also a lover of nature. A delicate soul." She smiled at Jonah. "And a bit of a romantic."

Jonah shook his head and muttered, "It's all a bunch of nonsense."

"You're very untrusting...typical of a Dog."

"Ah'm a _whut_?" He glared at Mei Ling, who started laughing at her husband's reaction to learning his sign. As a blush came to his cheeks, Jonah said, "Don't tell nobody in town 'bout this Chinese stuff, okay? Ah don't want any of the boys at the Roundyard tuh start barkin' whenever Ah walk by."

"Of course." She gave him a peck on his ruddy cheek. "It'll be our secret."

* * *

_**5:38 pm (Mesa City, Arizona):**_

"I never even had a clue you had a building like this out here," John Tane mused as he and his friend crested over the low rise. He looked at the low round adobe building as the two men continued along the rocky trail, packs heavy on their backs.

"No one does. Or at least, no one should," James Thunderbourne said as he led the way to the worn but solid structure. "Tucked up here, away from prying eyes, and greedy hands of the White Man." He glanced back at his friend, and added, "No offense."

"None taken, James," John answered with a nod of his head and sad sigh.

"It was built by my father and I shortly after the United States believed Mexico sold this land to them," James explained as they reached the building and he slipped his pack to the ground. "He said it came to him one night, a whisper on the wind that his son would need this place of retreat. We scouted these hills until this small valley spoke to him. No one else of any color skin has been brought to this place."

John began to speak as he too let his pack fall to the ground, but the words struck him like a fist. He pulled his glasses off his face and rubbed the bridge of his nose, then looked at James with his bright blue eyes. "For real?"

"Yes, John, for real. And true." He chuckled at his friend's reaction. "We are losing what little light is left, and we have much to prepare if are to begin our work tonight." James pulled out several tools and strapped them tight to his belt and thigh.

"I...don't know what to say," John said as he followed suit and the two men began to pick through the area. John collected what they'd need to start up a strong fire, along with the wood they'd brought with them, as James gathered smooth flat rocks.

"That's a first," James said with a grin as he set himself to his task.

"Not lately, it's not," John replied bitterly. "It's been happening all too frequently."

"Miss Walker?" James stopped for a moment to watch his friend's reply.

John tensed and sighed heavily again as he made his own little pile at the entrance to the hogan. "Oh yeah, that's probably the big one. This whole ritual tonight's got me a bit rattled too, don't mind my saying."

"I don't mind."

"I'm not supposed to pollute my body and mind like you're suggesting, James," John said as he pushed his glasses up close now. "The Word of Wisdom's got some pretty good notions about that kind of thing."

"I know, and I understand the problem you face," James answered. "But we need answers. The papers you retrieved from Breyer aren't just land deeds and rail diagrams. Those marks are magical, they're..." James wasn't sure what to call them at this point. "We need guidance. My medicine does not help me understand the magic of your people. We need greater wisdom."

John stared up into the sky helplessly, and watched the way the stars twinkled back down at him, as if trying to keep their secrets and winking mischievously. "Peyote? Drugs?"

"You have entered the sweat lodge before. You have opened your mind to a larger world already. This is a sacred plant, granted by the Great Spirit to give us a chance to commune with it," James said in a powerful voice, tired of the argument. "Your people were inspired by plates of gold dug from the ground." John watched as James stepped into the hogan and started to build up the fire. He hovered at the entrance, shifted nervously from foot to foot and stared around at anything but the interior now. "Tell me about Jeanne, John."

John pulled the stones over and started to push them into the building. "I think I love her, which is just crazy, because I barely know her. And spent a lot more time with her as Johnny and her as Madame .44, you know, one of those masked desperadoes I'm _supposed_ to bring to justice."

"Love's path is convoluted, as I understand it," James said as he continued to build the fire, and then piled the stones to one side. Now John and James set up the pots of water as the heat filled the small space inside. "Even when mates are chosen for us, the heart prefers to choose for itself. That's what I'm told, anyway."

"She's not interested though. She's got that Steele guy," John said glumly as he watched through the entrance. "I think."

"The man who Breyer works for? Sounds like more than just a rival for her affections."

"Breyer works for Bray, that's what we've learned so far," John corrected his friend. "Gideon's rich, and he's a handsome devil, I have to admit. I'm just a schoolteacher."

"Take your glasses off and get in here, will you? Johnny Thunder is needed, not John Tane," James said, exasperated with his friend now. "As for looks...don't make me say anything." He snorted slightly as he began to add water to the heated rocks, to test the steam. "John, she's a good woman. You're a good man. Masks, they just hide the truth, but not forever."

John folded his glasses carefully and placed them gingerly into his pack, then swallowed hard. He forced himself into the building as James pulled off his shirt now and set it aside. "Don't really matter right now, anyway. She's bolted, gone off who knows where, and I'm here, doing God knows what."

"Getting answers, my friend. We both are going to get answers, and if we do this right, and the spirits are listening, we're going to get answers to questions we haven't even asked yet."

"This is messed up seven ways to Sunday, James, but thanks. For listening, for smacking me upside the head when needed, and for sharing. This."

"Of course. Now stop talking like a woman, and get yourself ready." He laughed and poured more water, the hiss and steam filled the room, and Johnny Thunder unbuttoned his shirt with shaky hands.

* * *

_**6:52 pm (Cheyenne):**_

"Happy New Year!" Loy stumbled through the crowd gathered in the town hall, a bottle of something swinging from one hand. When he got within range of Jonah and Mei Ling, he pitched forward into Jonah's surprised arms." I'm _soooo_ glad you made it!" Loy said, grinning up at the man.

"Ah kin tell," Jonah replied, then shoved Loy to an upright position. "Started celebratin' a mite early, did we?"

Loy ignored the comment and turned instead to Mei Ling, slurring out, "And Ling's here...Mabel Ling...Baby Ling!" He stooped over and cooed in the general direction of her stomach, "_Hellooooo_ Baby Ling!"

"There he is." Findley, Larkin, and Miss Crawford came over, with Findley taking hold of Loy's shirt collar so he could straighten his inebriated friend up. "Sorry about that, Mrs. Hex. We had a little pre-party party over at the Roundyard, and Loy...well..."

"He got sloshed," Larkin finished.

"Thet's one way of puttin' it." Jonah jerked a thumb towards the town hall doors and said to Findley, "Why don't yuh go 'un-slosh' the jasper in the nearest horse trough?"

Findley grinned. "Great minds think alike." He then slung Loy over his shoulder and proceeded to make his way through the crowd, not before Larkin plucked the bottle out of Loy's hand and took a swig.

"Well, aside from that rude interruption," Miss Crawford said, trying not to laugh, "how are you enjoying the party so far?"

Mei Ling smiled and gave a slight bow, saying, "Just fine, thank you. It's nice to get out of the house and be with friends. Between my condition and Jonah hurting himself, I have not been able to do so in a while."

"Probably won't be any easier to do after the baby..." Miss Crawford stopped mid-sentence as a loud splash, followed by a bellow of "_CHRIST-JESUS!_", came from outside - those folks standing near the doors laughed and cheered at the entertainment provided by Findley sobering up Loy.

"Sounds like thet did the trick," Jonah said, while Mei Ling glanced towards the doors with a look of shock. "Don't worry, Ah'm sure the boy kin swim," he told her.

Larkin looked towards Jonah's feet, saying, "No little wolf buddy tonight?"

"Left Ironjaws at home...figure with all these folks around, he might get too riled up an' take a nip at somebody." Jonah took the bottle as Larkin passed it over. "By the by, where's the rest of the gang?"

"Mike and some other fellas have a poker game going back at the Roundyard. A couple of greenhorns wandered in off the 5 o'clock train, and Mike's been fleecing them ever since."

"Remind me tuh stop by later on an' fleece Mike in return." Jonah took a pull off the bottle. "How 'bout Izzy? Him an' the missus stay home?"

"Actually, Izzy's wife wants to see you." Miss Crawford took Mei Ling by the hand. "She and I got together with a few of the other ladies around town and gathered up a little collection of things for you and the baby."

A blush came to Mei Ling's cheeks as she said, "Oh my, you didn't...that's so wonderful! Isn't it, Jonah?"

"Certainly is. A mighty fine gesture on yer part, Miss Crawford. Makes me doubly glad thet Ah picked yer establishment tuh hole up in outta all the others in town."

"Never let it be said that I don't treat my customers proper." She leaned close to Mei Ling and said in a conspiratorial whisper, "So, you wanna see what you hauled in?" Mei Ling laughed and nodded, and the two ladies headed off to the back of the town hall.

"Gonna be a regular hen party," Jonah muttered, tipping the bottle in their direction before taking another swig.

"Speaking of women," Larkin said, "there was a blonde gal looking for you earlier."

Jonah choked on a mouthful of booze. "Cuh..._koff_...come again?" he sputtered.

"Before we left the Roundyard, the constable stopped by with this fine piece of calico. She was asking what we thought of you." He scanned the crowd, then pointed and said, "That's her...right over there."

Reluctantly, Jonah looked to where Larkin was pointing and saw a blonde-haired woman in a velvety blue dress, her back towards Jonah as she spoke with Constable Hart. _Emmy_, he thought, and his throat suddenly went dry. _Good Lord, Ah should've thought of this_. He pushed the bottle into Larkin's hands, saying, "Listen, Ah'm...Ah'm gonna go over tuh the saloon, buy into thet poker party. Anybody asks, thet's where Ah am, okay?"

Before Larkin could answer, Jonah was walking quickly towards the doors. As he neared them, Findley stepped back inside, an arm around Loy's soaking-wet shoulders. "Hey, where you going, Hex?" he asked.

"Out," was Hex's curt reply as he passed them.

"Well, don't be gone too long. We've only got..." Findley deftly whipped out his pocket watch, then called out, "Four hours and fifty-nine minutes 'til midnight!"

"Time enough for another drink," Loy declared, dripping beside him.

* * *

_**7:01 pm (Cheyenne):**_

"Who on Earth is that yelling?" Jeanne asked.

"That would be 'Tick-Tock' Findley, our unofficial town crier," Constable Hart replied.

"Just another of Cheyenne's 'prominent residents'?" Jeanne smiled. "I still have yet to see the main attraction, though. Are you sure he'll show up tonight?"

"Pretty sure I just saw him a few minutes ago."

"Really?" Jeanne turned around but failed to see anyone that matched the description of the infamous Mr. Hex. She saw a man who she recognized from her earlier tour of the town looking towards the door, who then turned back to look at her now, giving her a shrug before he drunk deep from a bottle. She gave a restrained wave of her fingers at his apparent salute, then said to Hart, "I'm sorry, but if he's here, he doesn't stand out nearly as much as the stories say."

"Oh, trust me, he'd stick out like a sore thumb. The man's doing his best to be an average citizen, but..." Hart paused, then said, "Hold on, I may have a lead." He led Jeanne towards a group of women gathered near the back of the hall - there was a table nearby, upon which sat some blankets and linens, along with a homemade doll or two. As they approached, Jeanne saw a very pregnant Chinese woman seated on a chair in the middle of the group, smiling as she held up a small white gown for all the rest to see. "Hope you don't mind the interruption, ladies," Hart said, tipping his hat. "This here is Jeanne Walker, the photographer, come up to our little town to snap pictures of the sights. She was also interested in perhaps speaking with a certain husband, whom we seem to be having trouble locating." He nodded towards the Chinese woman and said, "You don't happen to recall where you left Jonah, do you, Mei Ling?"

"He was with Larkin when I last saw him," she replied. "Perhaps he's still..."

"Not anymore," Hart said with a shake of his head. "Saw him by his lonesome right before we came over. I'll go check with him next, though. In the meantime, I think it'd be best for the two of you to have a little chat." He gestured from Jeanne to Mei Ling, saying, "If you want to get to know the man, Miss Walker, I'd say his wife is the best place to start."

One of the ladies fetched another chair, and Jeanne soon found herself sitting next to Mei Ling as the other women continued to present her with little necessities for the baby-to-be. The whole situation was very strange for Jeanne: in all her years, she'd given very little thought to settling down, much less having a child, so watching all these women coo and giggle over tiny outfits and crocheted booties was akin to witnessing some foreign ritual. In an effort to focus through it all, she kept her eyes on Mei Ling, who accepted all this attention with a demure smile, nodding her head and saying "Thank you" in such a soft, quiet voice...could this delicate person really be the one that tamed the wild man-killer Jonah Hex?

Once the last gift was given and the ladies began to disperse, Jeanne said to Mei Ling, "Looks like you have everything you could possibly need and then some."

"Yes. Perhaps we should save some for the second baby." Mei Ling rubbed a hand over her belly. "Jonah seems to think one will be enough, but I wouldn't mind two or three."

"Forgive my bluntness, but do you really think that someone like Jonah Hex is a suitable father for even _one_ child? I mean, the stories people tell about him...the cold-bloodedness..."

"Those are stories, Miss Walker, not truth. At least, not the entire truth." Mei Ling looked at her and said, "Did you travel here to find stories, or to find truth?"

Her mind went back to her thoughts upon the train, and she answered, "I came here to find the truth." _In more ways than one_, she silently added.

"I'm glad. So many people know only one side of Jonah, the side that he showed the world for a very long time...but that is not who he truly is. That is not who gave me this child."

Jeanne raised her eyebrows. "Are you saying Hex isn't the father of your..."

"Not the one you know," Mei Ling said. "Not the one most people know. The Jonah Hex I know - the one who blessed me with a child - is one of the kindest, most passionate people I have ever met. In these stories people tell, they talk of Jonah being a hateful man, but they do not realize that hate was all the world ever gave to him, so that was what he gave the world in return. All this time, there has been a great fountain of love buried inside of him, just waiting for the right person to bestow it upon."

"And I take it that you were just the right person?"

A slight blush came to Mei Ling's cheeks. "It seems that way. I showed him that he didn't have to be afraid to reveal his true self, and in turn, he gave up the only life he knew just to please me. Wouldn't you call that love?"

"I don't know...I suppose."

"You've never been in love, have you, Miss Walker?"

"I...I think I was...I am..." Again, her mind went back to the train, and her thoughts about the two men in her life. Was it love, or lust, or something else? Something deeper that had a name that couldn't be spoken, only felt.

"When you're in love," Mei Ling continued, "you will do things for that person that you would never do for anyone else, not even family. Jonah loves me, and has shown me that in so many ways. It makes me sad that so many people cannot see him the way I do, but it also makes me happy, for it means his love for me is that much more precious."

"It sounds beautiful, what the two of you have."

"I like to think so. Perhaps someday, you'll find someone like that for yourself."

"Perhaps." Jeanne changed the subject then, trying to move the conversation towards more pedestrian matters. But in the back of her mind, thoughts of love lingered, and with them, a name. A name unspoken, but deeply felt...

* * *

_**8:00 pm (the foothills outside of Mesa City):**_

The steam was thick, and heat intense. The two men sat on opposite sides of the sauna now, faced each other in their small clothes, and James handed what looked like a small button to Johnny. The blond-haired man watched his Indian companion carefully and mimicked his actions. Together, the two men chewed on the soft round material, and remained silent.

Sweat beaded up and then rolled down Johnny's temples, and dampened his forehead. He could feel his hair go wet and flatten against his head; he felt his skin flush hot and he almost chuckled when his brain thought about how in the heat, his friend looked like a true 'redskin' now. He bit his lip, and he could hear his lip cry "Ouch!" He jumped at the noise, as his mouth chastised him for the injury, and he blinked hard in response. When he looked up, he saw that James was nowhere in sight. Nor was the small adobe hut. Instead, he stood in a simple loincloth, pale and cold under an intensely black night sky. Very few stars deigned to look down on him now, and for some reason, that made him feel even lonelier, and he shivered. He saw the mountain James had told him about, and started to walk toward it. It was hours later when his legs became like lead and he gasped for breath that he finally realized that the mountain deliberately backpedaled from him.

"I'm with James, you bastard!" Johnny cried out at the mountain, only to have a peal of thunder roll across the sky and shake the ground. "I don't know where he is! Stop moving!"

"Are you sure it's the one movin', son?" Johnny turned around to see his father standing there and shaking his head. "You sure you're really headin' toward it? Or maybe, maybe you ain't so far gone that you know this is a sin, wicked and awful."

Johnny blinked harder now and shook his head as well, a mirror to his father's movements. "You don't even know-"

"About the lies, son? About how you lied to yer momma about not fightin', and you lied to me so that you could keep lyin' to her? Is that what I don't even know, son?"

Johnny turned to run again now, the voice of his father trailed after him, and he glanced over his shoulder to see the old man just standing there. He turned to look in front of him again in time to nearly bump into two pale corpses with large holes in their bodies, like raw, ragged meat.

"Johnny," Benjamin Sanderson said. "You let us down."

"Failed us, Johnny," Joseph Sanderson said, the first time in years the brothers agreed. "Let us die, and now you let us rot without justice."

"I tried...I'm trying..." Johnny stumbled back from them now and wiped at his forehead, soaked with sweat. "I'm not going to rest until I bring Breyer to justice. I'm doing everything in my power."

"Really? Everything in your power, John?" He blanched at the new voice and refused to look at his mother, and fought off tears. "You say those words as easily as you promised me, and now..."

"No! Ma, you don't understand! I have to do this, James was right, we didn't have any other way to-"

"To stick a knife in my back, son?" his father asked now, as Will Tane stepped up to put a hand on his shoulder. John shrugged back from it, and spun away, but refused to look in the direction of his mother's voice. "All those teachin's I tried to pass on, all the proper ways things are meant to be done, and here you are, chewin' on Injun devil weed and traipsin' around after beasts?"

"Stop! I have to do this! Don't you understand, Pa?"

"We want justice!" the Sanderson brothers cried out as one in a horrid wail of sheer torment. "We were made to kill each other, and you swore!"

"I did, I do, I will, I...I..."

"John, you said you'd do everything in your power," his mother said again. She brushed a wet lock from his forehead and caught his gaze at last. "So do that. Do everything in your power. Don't be afraid of it, John. You have a good heart, and you just have to listen to it."

Johnny blinked back tears as he hugged her tight, only to have her vanish in a gust of wind. They all vanished in a gust of wind, and he was alone in a desert, sand kicked up, and scoured him as he felt that sharp tug in his heart.

Once more, the wind whipped around him, and he heard something on it.

"Johnny." The wind spoke his name and he spun around in response. _It didn't speak my name, it carried my name_, he slowly realized and followed it now. He marched deliberately into the wind, against the sand, and caught the word again.

"John." It was a sigh mixed in a hurricane, and his heart leapt.

"Jeanne."

* * *

_**8:21 pm (Cheyenne):**_

_Yo're actin' a fool, yuh know thet?_ Jonah thought as he sat on a bench in front of the livery, his coat collar turned up against the cold and his gaze turned towards the ground. _Here yuh are, a grown man of thirty-three, an' yo're sneakin' about like a little boy who's afraid of gettin' a whuppin'. Yuh cain't avoid Emmylou forever, yuh know._

"Ah kin sure as Hell try," he muttered aloud, then glanced around to make sure nobody was nearby to hear him talking to himself. Jonah had passed a few people while he'd been wandering about town, and each time he'd turned his head away and quickened his pace in the hopes that they'd leave him be. He'd even scrapped his notion of going to the Roundyard: the possibility of being grilled by one of the boys was too strong, and Hex didn't feel like he could take such a thing at the moment. So instead he sat alone, out in the cold on New Year's Eve, while everyone else was basking in warmth and light and laughter. _Nothin' new there_, he thought, rubbing his gloved hands together to keep the circulation going. _Yuh've spent most of yer life alone in one way or another...whut dif'rence is one more night gonna make?_

The difference was that it wasn't supposed to be like that for him anymore. He had a wife now, he had a home, but try as he might, he couldn't enjoy it. Things kept coming up that had the potential to take all that away from him...like this incident with Emmylou Hartley. As much as he hated the notion, if he wanted to have anything resembling a peaceful life here in Cheyenne, he was going to have to talk with that girl about what happened between them, and make it perfectly clear that nothing of the sort could ever happen again. "Ain't as much of a chore as yer mind keep buildin' it up tuh be," he told himself as he got up from the bench. "Just hitch up yer belt, then march right on up tuh the girl an' say, 'Emmy...'"

"Yes?"

Jonah whirled around to see Emmylou stepping out an alleyway near the livery. She had on a simple red dress with a delicately-embroidered shawl draped over her shoulders, and her blonde hair was pinned up in a fashionable style. Jonah gaped at her for a moment, then said the first thing that came to mind: "Weren't yuh wearin' a blue dress earlier?"

"No...would you rather that I was?"

He shook his head. "Thet's not what Ah...never mind. Where the Hell did yuh come from, anyhow? Ah ain't an easy man tuh sneak up on."

"When I was with the Crow, I...learned to be quiet." She slowly approached him, saying, "I saw you pass by the hotel, and I decided to follow you, but you looked so upset..." She gazed up at him with longing in her eyes. "I've missed you, Jonah."

"Listen, sugar, Ah cain't..." His own eyes darted up and down the street nervously, then he pointed towards the livery door. "Kin we pop inside here fer a bit? Ah don't want nobody..."

"You're worried about your wife finding out about us, aren't you?"

"Of course Ah'm worried! She..." He realized he was shouting, and said in a more sedate voice, "Just get inside, okay?" She did as he asked, with Jonah leaving the door open just a crack so as to let in some moonlight. Some of the horses inside snorted and tossed their heads at the sight of the newcomers, echoing the skittishness that Jonah himself felt.

"Do you like my dress?" Emmy turned about to give him a full view. "I picked it out especially for you. And my hair..."

"Ah like the pigtails on yuh better," he said without thinking. When he realized what had come out of his mouth, he quickly added, "But what Ah like don't matter. Yuh ain't muh girl, Emmylou. Yuh _cain't_ be."

"Why not?"

"Whut the Hell do yuh mean, 'Why not'? 'Cause Ah'm _married_! Ah've got a _wife_! Yuh done said so yerself!" He stopped, rubbing a hand over his face as he tried to regain his composure. "Ah made a vow in front of the Lord tuh be faithful tuh Mei Ling, an' Ah meant every word of it. What happened between us up in the mountains...Ah wasn't in any sort of shape tuh be thinkin' clearly, an' Ah made a real big mistake. Yuh understand thet, Emmy? _It was a mistake_. Nothin' more."

"I don't believe you."

"Ah don't care if'n yuh believe me or not, just so long as yuh know it ain't gonna happen again." Jonah turned away from her, intent on walking out of the livery and all the way back to the party with a finally-clear conscience, but as he laid a hand upon the door, Emmy said, "You deserve more than one, you know."

Without looking at her, Jonah asked, "More'n one whut?"

"More than one wife." The statement was enough to make Jonah turn back around. When he did, he saw Emmy standing straight with her chin tilted slightly upward, instead of her usual timid posture. "I've heard a lot of stories about you since I came to town," she said. "People say that you're a great hunter of men, a killer of killers. They look upon you with both fear and respect. You lived amongst Indians just like I did, so you know that a brave warrior like yourself should be rewarded with many wives."

"We are _not _Indians, Emmy, we're white folks, an' unless yo're livin' in Utah, white folks don't do thet sort of thing."

"I don't see why not. When I lived with the Crow, I was proud to be the fourth wife of Eagle Who Stands. He'd counted coup upon many enemies, and he'd..."

"Was he the one who beat the Hell outta yuh a couple months back?" Jonah interrupted.

Emmy flinched at the words, but kept talking. "He could be kind, sometimes. He was kind to his other wives, especially the ones that bore his children." A note of sadness came to her voice as she said, "I know that Mei Ling will always be first with you, because of that, but I would be honored to be your second. I'd do anything you wished, and I know that you'd never lay a hand on me, you'd treat me with nothing but love and kindness, because that's how you've treated me since the first day we met."

There was a long pause, then Jonah replied, "Woman, Ah'm beginnin' tuh think thet yo're touched in the head." He turned towards the door again. "Damn shame, but considerin' whut yuh've been through, Ah ain't surprised."

"If you don't love me, then kiss me!" Emmy blurted out.

"Like Ah said..."

"If you don't love me, then you won't feel anything when you give me a kiss," she continued. "And if you don't feel anything, then I won't bother you anymore. I mean it."

Jonah sighed as he turned around once more. "If'n Ah do this, yuh swear thet yuh'll quit with this 'second wife' nonsense?" She nodded, and Jonah approached her, saying, "Fine...one kiss, an' then we're done."

Emmy closed her eyes as Jonah put a hand under her chin and turned her face up towards his, taking a moment to regard her serene features. Once again, was struck by her resemblance to Cassie. _But she ain't Cassie_, he told himself. _Cassie's long dead, an' yo're married, an' some stinkin' fairy-tale kiss ain't gonna change thet._ He kept repeating that to himself as he leaned towards her, his open eyes fixed upon her closed ones. _She ain't Cassie...she ain't..._

His pursed his lips, intent on giving her a chaste kiss and nothing more, but when he made contact, he went against his better judgment and lingered. Then his eyes slipped closed, and he opened his lips a little wider, pulling her body closer to his as the emotions he'd been trying to repress for the past two months came flooding back, overwhelming all common sense.

"You love me," Emmy gasped, "you_ do_ love me..."

"Hush," Jonah whispered. He didn't want to think at that moment, he only wanted to feel. There was no world outside of this. No worries, no concerns. No Mei Ling.

"Hush...just hush..."

* * *

_**8:47 pm (Richmond, Virginia):**_

His son was dead.

Even after all these years, that simple fact had enough power behind it to rise up and strike Quentin Turnbull square in the heart. It happened most often during the holidays, and for good reason: the last time he'd seen Jeb alive had been during Christmas, when he and Jonah Hex (God damn his soul) were on leave from the front. How wonderful Jeb had looked in his uniform on that visit, tall and proud, full of youthful vigor...that was how Turnbull wished to remember his son, not as a cold, pallid figure laying in a pine box. But that was all Jeb Turnbull had been for the past eight years: a corpse in the ground, a dead legacy, unable to produce heirs or to carry on as master of the plantation. Considering this fact, could Turnbull be blamed for his bouts of melancholy during this time of year? Certainly not.

He picked up the decanter off the small table beside his chair and freshened his brandy. He'd already drank far more that night than what most folks would consider "sociable", but seeing as how he was sitting alone in his parlor and not at some polite gathering, he cared not what anyone might think about his current imbibing. So he sipped his brandy with only the soft glow of the fireplace for company and continued to ruminate on what he'd lost. After a time, the parlor door creaked open, and Solomon said in a hushed tone, "Mastuh Turnbull?"

"What? What is it?" he replied, the liquor giving his voice a hard edge.

"Beggin' your pardon, suh, but Mistuh Temple's come by tuh speak with you."

"Tell him it's late, and that I am in no mood to make revelry."

A muffled voice could be heard beyond the half-open parlor door. Solomon nodded to the unseen speaker, then said to Turnbull, "He says received a letter from Mistuh Cochrane, an' that he would've come by at a decent hour to deliver it, but..."

"Cochrane?" He sat up straight in his chair. "Let him in, Solomon."

The black manservant did as ordered, swinging the door fully open to admit the gentleman waiting in the hall. At first glance, Rufus Temple was an unassuming man with his average build, brown hair and moustache, but what struck most people upon a second glance was the coat sleeve pinned up to his shoulder, as his right arm had been removed by a Union sawbones just before he'd been shipped off to a prisoner of war camp. Being one of the few Confederate survivors of the infamous Fort Charlotte Massacre, Temple sometimes counted himself lucky that his arm was the only thing he lost that night. Other times, he wished he still had both hands should the opportunity to choke the life out of that traitor Jonah Hex ever arise.

"Forgive my abruptness earlier," Turnbull said as Temple took a seat in the chair across from him, removing his hat as he did so. "I do believe the spirits have made me forget my manners." Turnbull raised his glass for emphasis.

"You're forgiven, sir...though I reckon I could forgive you better if I had a draught myself. Awful cold out there tonight."

"Of course." He gestured to Solomon, who poured a fresh glass in silence. "Now, you said the esteemed Mr. Cochrane has finally sent word regarding our quarry?"

Temple nodded, then set his hat upon his knee so as to free up his remaining hand and pulled an envelope out of his coat. "My readin' ain't never been so good, but once I made out enough words to know who it was from, I came here as fast as I could."

"You did just fine, Temple...and let me remind you again how much I've appreciated your loyalty to our cause over these long years." He took the envelope and settled back in his chair, angling the letter slightly towards the fireplace to better catch the light. Silence lapsed over the room for a good five minutes as Turnbull perused the letter once, then again, then a third time, the look of astonishment growing upon his face with every pass. Finally, still holding the letter, he let his hands dip down to his lap, and his gaze lingered on the empty air before him. "A wife and child," he said to no one in particular. "I never would have imagined..."

"Hex has a kid?" Temple was so surprised by the news that he spilled a bit of his brandy. "You mean somebody actually bedded down with that buzzard?"

"Apparently so...and she is a Celestial as well. The man has no sense of the proper order of things." Turnbull shook his head. "And to think, I once considered him family."

"So now what? Is he draggin' Hex back here so we can kill 'im, or he is sendin' a corpse instead?"

"Unlike you, Mr. Cochrane has put a bit more thought into the situation." Turnbull held up the letter, saying, "He sent along a few options for me to consider, along with coded responses I can send via telegram without arousing the suspicions of any local authorities." He clutched his eagle-headed cane as he stood up and walked over to a small writing desk on the other side of the room, then proceeded to jot something down on a sheet of paper. "First thing in the morning, I want you to go to the telegraph office and send this message along to the location Cochrane specified. Make sure it's worded _exactly_ as I have it written down."

Temple stared at the paper Turnbull handed him, trying to puzzle out the meaning of the inky scratches before him. "Ex...Ezod...doos..."

"Exodus, Chapter 11, Verses 5 and 6." He said it slowly, as if to a child. "I do advise that, the next time you find a Bible within your reach, you ask someone to read you the passage." A cold smile came to Turnbull's lips. "I'm sure you'll find it very appropriate."

* * *

_**9:19 pm (Cheyenne):**_

Mei Ling? Are you okay?" A look of concern crossed Jeanne's face as the other woman suddenly squeezed her eyes shut a pressed a hand to her swollen belly. "Is it the baby?"

"I'm fine. The baby..." She paused, wincing, then said, "The baby's been kicking a lot lately. I think that's all it..._owwww!_" Mei Ling began to double over, and Jeanne reached out to support her. "Hasn't felt...like this..."

"Do you have a doctor in town? Do you know if he's here tonight?"

Her lips were pressed tight against the pain, so Mei Ling only nodded. Then she looked down at the floor and let out a whimper - Jeanne followed her gaze to see a pinkish-red puddle forming beneath Mei Ling's chair. As calmly as she could, Jeanne said, "It's going to be okay. Just sit here and don't move. I'll find the doctor for you."

Mei Ling nodded, then cried out again. Some of the townsfolk chatting nearby were beginning to turn around, and a woman came over and sat in Jeanne's chair after she vacated it.

A murmur started to move through the town hall as Jeanne went from one person to the next, asking where the doctor might be. Luckily, they pointed her rather quickly towards Doc Pedersen, who didn't hesitate to follow the photographer back to where she'd left Mei Ling. When they got there, they found a crowd gathered around Mei Ling as she lay on her back upon the floor, a balled-up coat beneath her head and Miss Crawford holding her hand for comfort. The doctor knelt next to her, saying, "Don't worry, Mrs. Hex, everything's going to be fine."

Mei Ling shook her head at the statement, her face already slick with sweat. "It hurts...not like you said it would, either. It's...it's all..." The rest of the sentence was cut off by a shriek of pain.

"I don't think the baby wants to wait any longer." Pedersen looked up at the crowd and said, "Somebody find a blanket so we can carry her to my office."

"No," Mei Ling gasped, "find...find Jonah. Somebody...f-f-fuh..."

Jeanne knelt down and said to her, "I'll take care of that, don't worry. I've been trying to find him all day anyhow."

Mei Ling tried to smile. "Thank you. You've been...so nice...to..._ooowwwh_..." Her face twisted as another wave of pain ripped through her body. A pair of men arrived with a blanket just then, and they carefully lifted her onto it and began to follow the doctor to his office. Everyone else present watched them go, and the moment they passed out of the hall, the murmur grew larger as they all speculated as to whether or not both mother and child would pull through.

Jeanne wondered the same in silence: though she had no experience in childbirth, she figured that the presence of blood when the mother's water broke couldn't be a good sign. _There's no point in you dwelling on that right now_, Jeanne told herself. _She's in the doctor's hands now, and you've got a mission: find Jonah Hex and get him to Mei Ling's side before something really does go wrong._ She started for the door herself, and as she neared it, she spotted some potential help. "You there! You're from that Yardarm place, aren't you?"

"Roundyard," Larkin corrected. "The Roundyard Saloon, best watering hole in all of Cheyenne. Nice to see you again, ma'am."

Findley, standing next to him, elbowed Larkin aside. "Are you that photographer lady? Boy, am I sorry I missed you earlier." He flashed a grin and smoothed back his hair.

Jeanne put a no-nonsense look on her face and replied, "Rein it in, mister. I'm looking for Jonah Hex."

"Forget it, he's hitched already. I, on the other hand..."

Larkin gave Findley a whack on the back of the head. "She's looking to _interview_ him, you numbskull."

"That's been put on hold for the moment," Jeanne said. "I need to get him over to the doctor's office." The two men gave her a puzzled look, and she said, "To see Mei Ling...she's having the baby?" More puzzlement, and Jeanne said in exasperation, "Haven't you noticed all the commotion over the past ten minutes?"

In answer, Findley and Larkin merely lifted their half-full glasses of liquor and shrugged.

"Lovely," she muttered. "Do you think maybe you two could pull your heads out of your glasses for a while and help me track down Hex?"

"Oh, that's easy. He told me a couple of hours ago that he was going over to the Roundyard," Larkin said.

"Who's going to the Roundyard?" Mike walked over to their little group, a glass of his own in hand.

"Hex was, around...I think it'd just turned seven," Larkin replied. "Didn't you see him?"

Mike shook his head. "I left there at half-past eight. Jonah never showed up. I remember the constable coming by looking for him, though."

"Where else could Hex be?" Jeanne asked. "Any other bars he likes to frequent?" The boys couldn't think of any place, so Jeanne said, "Okay, I need you to spread out and start asking anyone if they've seen Hex since seven o'clock. We'll start here at the town hall, then make our way up and down every street if we have to until we find him. First one to nab him has to drag him to the doctor's office. Agreed?"

"Yes, ma'am!" Mike threw a mock salute, then he and the others headed off into the crowd, while Jeanne continued on to the door leading outside. _When this is over_, she thought, _I'm going to hogtie this man to a chair until I get an interview out of him_.

* * *

_**9:55 pm (foothills of Mesa City):**_

The wind continued to buffet Johnny, but each step brought him closer to the voice, and each step seemed to fight against less furious wind, until at last it died away and he could see the clear dark night and brilliant panorama of stars overhead, winking once more on him. Before him stood the foothills and the mountain, and he stood on a road that took him straight to it. He glanced around for the voice, and saw nothing however.

"How can I be imagining things in a crazy dream vision?" he muttered bitterly to himself as he started along the road. He paused after a few steps and blinked hard once more. "Guilt...guilt over everything secret and wrong..."

He looked back at the way he came, the cracked and broken, storm-swept desert he'd pushed through. "I felt guilty. Ma understands though, she understands why I'm here." He smiled at the thought and ran his hand through his hair. "Jeannie would too, wouldn't she?"

He heard a rattling noise in the distance and glanced to his right, off the path, and saw a snake the size of his horse slowly winding its way toward him. It had mean red eyes and licked its lips and made him shudder. "Can't stand still, stop thinking. Too much thinking, that's your problem, teacher. You can't think every little thing, sometimes you just have to go on gut and heart and just-"

The rattle was closer, and a hiss drew his gaze back to the snake as it approached him quicker now, hungrily and angrily bunching up to strike.

"Move!" he shouted and started back down the trail at a run.

The path wound coiled like the rattler he'd just escaped, and though it seemed like a straight run to the mountain, instead it continued to spiral around his goal. "No! No, we're not playing that game!" he growled angrily. "I want to go straight! It's my dream, and what I say goes."

It was then he reached a fork in the road, so close to that first rise up to the mountain. The other path stretched off toward the horizon, far from the mountain, and he scoffed at it at first. Then there was a peal of thunder that rattled the landscape and made his heart skip a beat. It happened again a second later, and Johnny looked up in surprise. "Not thunder...bells. Bells? What are bells doing?" A third peal rolled across the strange reality, and again he heard that special, sweet word.

"Johnny." He smiled and he realized where the path led to, and now he found the choice so hard. A fourth peal sounded out now, and Johnny understand more.

"Midnight. A new year..." He remembered how he heard that who you spend the new year with is who you spent the future with.

"Jeanne!" he called out and dashed down the fork that pulled him from the mountain, and trusted this once to his heart.

* * *

_**10:36 pm (Cheyenne):**_

A fine snow was beginning to come down as Jeanne searched yet another street for Jonah Hex. It seemed as though he'd disappeared off the face of the Earth: she'd found a couple of people that had seen him walking around town, but those sightings appeared to drop off around eight o'clock, when someone thought they'd spotted him sitting near the livery. It was the best lead she had at the moment, so she was making her way towards that end of town. _He'd better turn up soon,_ she thought, _because I am about frozen to the bone out here._

When the livery came in sight, Jeanne's hopes evaporated, as the bench positioned outside it was decidedly empty. She bit back a very unladylike epithet and walked closer to the livery anyhow, her eyes fixed on the ground - she was no tracker, but perhaps she'd get lucky and discover a nice, obvious set of footprints that would lead her to her quarry. Between the freshly-falling snow and the high-traffic area, however, nothing was jumping out at her that screamed, _"This way!"_ Sighing, she sat upon the bench and tried to think of what to do next.

That was when she heard a woman let out a gasp. Jeanne looked up, but saw no one around. Then there was another gasp, followed by a short cry, coming from the other side of the livery door. Jeanne felt a blush come to her cheeks when she realized what she was hearing. _What a town_, she thought, and got up to leave the unseen lovebirds to their business, but before she could move out of earshot, she heard one last gasp from the woman: "Oh, Jonah..."

Jeanne froze, hardly able to believe what she'd just overheard, but that disbelief didn't stop her from slowly approaching the livery door. It was open just a crack, and she carefully pushed it aside to get a better view. She immediately saw a random assortment of clothes scattered about, leading towards one of the stalls, and there, wrapped in a horse blanket, she could see a man and a woman in a very passionate embrace. Though she'd never seen so much as a picture of him before, she'd heard enough descriptions of that infamous scar to know that the man before her was definitely Jonah Hex. Though the shock of it all rendered her speechless, that didn't stop her from grabbing one of Jonah's boots laying nearby and throwing it at his head. The boot connected with his temple, but it was the woman in his arms that cried out. "Whut the Hell..." Jonah started to say, and looked up to see Jeanne standing there. He then pushed himself away from the other woman, as if distance could erase the indiscretion.

"How...how could you _do_ such a thing?" Jeanne said to him, finally finding her voice. "I've been looking everywhere for you all day, hearing all sorts of great things about you, and _this _is what you've been doing? Having sex with some...some whore?"

"Who are you calling a whore, you East Coast hussy?" the other woman retorted.

"Simmer down, Emmylou." Jonah had all but jumped back into his longjohns, and was in the process of pulling his trousers back on. "An' you, lady..." He pointed a finger at Jeanne. "Ah don't know who yuh think yuh are, but this ain't..."

"I'd like to think that I'm a very good friend of your wife's. You _do_ remember your wife, don't you?"

Jonah paled at the words. He tried to avoid Jeanne's hard gaze as he stammered, "This was just...Ah'm not...fer God's sake, don't tell her 'bout none of this. Ah'm beggin' yuh."

"And why shouldn't I tell her? She's done nothing but sing your praises to me, and _this_..." She stabbed a finger at Emmylou. "_This_ is how you choose to repay her love?"

Emmy stood up and wrapped herself in the blanket, saying, "You shouldn't go talking about things you know nothing about. Jonah's earned the right to love whomever he pleases."

"Dammit, woman, will yuh quit sayin' things like thet?" Jonah snapped at her. "Bad enough we got caught, yuh don't need tuh speechify on top of it all." He bent down to put on his boots. "That tears it: Ah'm gonna tell Mei Ling 'bout all this. Ah'm sick tuh death of..."

"Holy crap!" The three people in the livery turned towards the door to see Mike enter, grinning from ear to ear. "No wonder nobody could find you...way to go, Hex!"

"Keep yer big damn mouth shut, boy!" Jonah shouted. "Ah ain't in the mood!"

Mike threw up his hands defensively. "Okay, okay! Don't shoot me!" He then looked at Jeanne and said, "Boy, for a new father, he sure is cranky."

"Whut in blazes are yuh talkin' about?" Jonah asked.

"Miss Walker didn't tell you? Mei Ling's popping out the baby. They took her over to the doctor's office at least an hour ago."

Jonah stared at Mike for a second, then at Jeanne. "Why the Hell didn't yuh...dammit!" He grabbed the rest of his clothes and bolted out of the livery, knocking Mike flat in the process. The doctor's office was a good seven blocks away, and Jonah ran like the Devil was after him, pausing only long enough to pull on his shirt and coat in an alleyway before going up the stairs to Doc Pedersen's second-floor office. He banged the door open, and immediately, he could hear his wife screaming in the back room. "Mei Ling!" he called out. "Ah'm here! Don't yuh worry, Ah'm a-comin'!" He raced across the empty waiting room, all his attention focused on getting to her side as quickly as possible, when the doctor stepped out of the back room and blocked his path. "Get out of muh way, dammit!" Jonah said. "Ah want tuh see muh wife!"

"I understand, Mr. Hex," Doc Pedersen answered, "but there's nothing you can do in there. You'd only get in the way."

"But Mei Ling..."

"Mei Ling's fine so far. There's been some complications due to labor coming on so early, but she's doing well."

Jonah strained to see past the doctor and into the room, but the door was halfway shut. "Whut about the baby? Yuh said it wasn't supposed tuh be here fer another month."

"I know. That's one of the complications."

"So whut are yuh sayin', Doc? Are they gonna be okay?"

"Right now...yes, they're fine. Two, three hours from now...I don't know. If it starts to look bad, I'll call you in there, but for the moment..." He pointed to a straight-back chair behind Jonah. "I don't know if you're a religious man, Mr. Hex, but a prayer might be good right now."

"Yessir." Jonah watched the doctor went back into the room with Mei Ling, and through the doorway, he caught a glimpse of her laying on the bed, crying out in pain. Mrs. Pedersen was in there as well, and she laid a wet cloth upon Mei Ling's forehead just as the door closed. He stood there for a while, staring at the door and listening to his wife's cries, then he did as the doctor told him and sat down in the chair, clasping his hands before him.

"Lord," he said, "Ah know whut Ah did was a sin, an' Ah'm sorry fer it. Ah was weak. Weak an' stupid. It's just...Ah see thet gal, an' muh head gets all mixed up. Cain't explain it one bit. Ah know thet ain't a good excuse, though, so Ah'm askin' Y'all tuh forgive me...an' if'n Yuh cain't forgive me, then go ahead an' smite me down fer whut Ah did. Ah'll take whutever punishment Yuh want tuh deal out...but don't take it out on Mei Ling an' the baby. Please, Lord, Ah know the two of us ain't always seen eye-tuh-eye on some things, but Yuh've gotta see thet they're innocent in all this. Mei Ling ain't done one damn thing thet'd make me want tuh stray, an' the baby...the baby ain't even had a chance tuh live yet. She's..."

His voice cracked, and he had to swallow back tears before he could continue. "Yuh done put me through this sort of Hell once afore, Lord...please, Ah'm beggin' Yuh, don't make me go through it again."

* * *

_**11:59 pm (foothills of Mesa City):**_

The peals of the bell drew Johnny Thunder closer and closer to some strange ethereal town he'd never seen before, and would probably never see again. He didn't care. Instead, he raced along the path that he knew was the right path to take. The road and the count of the bells to the end of the old year and the start of the new drew him past all manner of other people, none of whom he had seen before, and most of whom he rightly figured he'd never see again. But it was the person he didn't see that held his concern at the moment. "Jeanne!" he called out. "Jeanne, where are you?" Ghostly snowflakes swirled around and through him, carried by wind he couldn't feel, yet he refused to let this strangeness deter him from finding her. _"Jeanne!"_

"Johnny." His name floated up and caressed his face, turning his head in the proper direction. He spun on his heel and ran past some sort of livery, down towards an alley a few blocks away. The bells grew louder as he drew close, and he knew the last one was about to sound. "I have to reach her first, I _have_ to..." he gasped, and ran down the alley, towards a beautiful shining woman in blue, sitting alone on an old crate with her arms hugging her chest. The woman was silent, but her heart was crying out his name, it had been doing so during his entire journey, and then he heard the last bell, and Johnny knew that it was...

* * *

_**...Midnight...**_

...and Mei Ling screamed again as she tried to bear down and push. Her throat felt more and more raw every time she cried out like that, but she had to, the pain was tearing her apart. _This cannot be normal_, she thought, _there must be something wrong._ But if something was wrong, then what would happen to the baby? She wasn't worried about herself, only the baby, just as she had been when she first found out she was pregnant. Mei Ling prayed to the spirits of her mother and father to help her through this, and to protect their grandchild from whatever danger it may be in. Then another contraction hit, and she screamed again...

...and Jonah Hex cradled his head in his hands, every cry his wife made slamming into him like a bullet. "Don't do this tuh me, Lord," he whispered. "Please, Ah'd rather Yuh just kill me now than make me suffer through losin' 'em." All the while, an image hung in his mind: a small coffin, made by his own hands, and the small body that lay inside it. Jonah shook his head violently, trying to drive the image away, but after all these years, it still wouldn't fade. The memory remained as vivid as the day it had been formed, the secret only one other person knew. A sob escaped him, and he bit down on his knuckles in an effort to keep himself quiet...

...and Emmylou Hartley stood on the outskirts of Cheyenne, staring up at the moon. She'd put her clothes back on, but she kept the horse blanket wrapped around herself. It smelled like Jonah now, and she rubbed the corner of the scratchy wool material against her cheek as she breathed it in. _He loves me_, she thought, _he loves me loves me loves me_. She knew that he'd never leave his wife, but Emmy was okay with that, so long as she and Jonah could share moments together from time to time, just like they had tonight. She would wait patiently for him, just as she used to wait with the other wives for Eagle Who Stands to come home from a hunt, and they would all have their turn with him before he would come to her. _But Jonah is better, because he will never hurt me. He told me so._ She smiled up at the moon, and began to pull the pins out of her hair and fashion it into braids, just the way Jonah said he liked it...

...and Solomon peeked into the parlor to see his master sleeping in a chair by the fireplace, the decanter of brandy next to him empty. Mister Temple had left before ten o'clock, but Master Turnbull had remained in the parlor instead of turning in for the night like he normally would around that time. As quietly as he could, Solomon crept into the room, a blanket already laying over his arm so that he could drape it over his master. They'd grown up together, him and Master Turnbull: Solomon's mother had been Mammy to young Quentin, and even then, he'd treated Solomon kindly. That was why he'd stayed even after Mister Lincoln said all black folks were free, because he knew he'd never find anyone more kind to work for than Master Turnbull. It saddened him that Master Jeb had died, and that it had made Jeb's father turn so bitter, but he knew there was still some goodness in the man, just as he knew there must still be some goodness in Jonah Hex, despite the nasty things Master Turnbull and Mister Temple said about him. _There's good in all God's creatures,_ Solomon thought as he gazed down upon his sleeping master, _if'n you look deep enough._ He picked up the empty decanter and quietly left the parlor...

...and Jeanne Walker sat alone in the alleyway, eyes stricken with pain and confusion, but still beautiful in the blue dress that hugged her body and made her lovelier than ever. All she could think about in her fury at Jonah Hex was how she felt her body yearn to see Gideon Steele again, and how her heart pounded to hear John Tane say those simple little words...

"Jeanne, I love you!"

She looked up and around in response to the voice, shocked, alarmed. _Foolish girl, you're so shot to heck you're hearing things,_ she chided herself until she saw him. For just the briefest of moments, there he was: Johnny Thunder, noble and strong and fast as lightning, and then he was gone. "John?" she whispered, and she felt more conflicted than ever...

...and Johnny Thunder saw her looking like an angel from above, and he blew her a kiss and watched the road lead him away from that strange town he'd never know, and then, it all melted away and he was with James again, and there was a mountaintop, with stars close enough to touch...

* * *

_**January 1, 1872, 12:01 am (foothills of Mesa City):**_

"What? Where...where am I?" Johnny was confused as he found himself high above the countryside, perched near the summit of the towering mountain.

"You have arrived, Johnny," James said in a calm voice, perhaps a slight laugh even at Johnny's confusion.

"I wasn't here though," Johnny argued. "I took the other path, I was in some strange little town and saw Jeanne." He stopped and stared at James. "And I'd lost you almost from the get go."

"Of course. We had very different paths and completely different challenges to reach here," James explained as he continued to settle his friend down. "We're close, maybe even as close as brothers could get without being the same blood." Johnny gawked at the words and their meaning, but James just kept speaking. "But there are things in our lives that drive us in other directions. That we wind up in the same place on the same cause speaks well though, I'd like to think."

"Can I ask what you went through?" Johnny asked with an awkward chuckle, and let James's declaration of kinship pass without comment.

"You can ask. But I'd prefer to keep it private. For now. You understand?"

"You bet, pal. You bet."

James and Johnny went silent now, and after a few moments, began to pivot around on the rounded summit, and gazed as far as they could see. It was as if the whole of the continent could be seen from this place, the Thunderbird's peak. Johnny squinted toward the north and could feel inside a place that seemed familiar, though he'd never seen it before and could not see it now. "Jeanne's that way," he said softly.

James turned to follow where his friend pointed and nodded. They also saw the dead black line that stretched out of that place; stretched down to their own home at the base of the mountain; stretched toward the west in a single dangerous thread, but stretched back to the States in increasing number. The coast seemed gray and lifeless under the metallic web of black.

"That pattern, isn't that on some of the papers I snatched away?" Johnny asked. "It's missing some lines out this way, but for the most part..."

"I agree." James sighed heavily, and felt the weight of the webbing on his spirit. "The railroads, it must be."

**It must be, you are correct, my children.** The voice rumbled like thunder, shook the mountain, rattled the spirits of the two men as they gazed up at massive bird that now peered up over the mountaintop at them. Each predatory yellow eye was as tall as the men, as it stared unblinking. **The patterns are woven into the designs of the rail barons without their awareness of what it means.**

"What does it mean?" James asked as Johnny just stared in shock at the bird of prey, the way lightning seemed to coruscated over its wings.

**Coyote plays them for fools.** There was no judgment in Thunderbird's voice, not about its brother spirit, not about the rapacious businessmen that spread over its people's lands. It was a simple pronouncement. **And with their unwitting aid and his deceitful patterns, he cages Turtle and retakes what was once given.**

"Retakes what? What's he doing? Please tell us!" James pleaded. "And if it is Coyote's doing, what is the lesson he is trying to teach?"

Johnny looked back out over the landscape, tried to process seeing Boston on the East Coast and New Orleans down along the Gulf of Mexico, all in one glance. It hurt his mind to contemplate what all this meant.

**He seeks to take back the gift of magic that he gave to the peoples of the Turtle Island. He will not let it go to the invaders from across the oceans. Why he does this, what lesson he offers, if any, these are things known only to his slippery mind, and must be drawn directly from him, if at all.**

"Why me?" Johnny spoke up now and turned to look at the spirit. "What is it about me? James is the one with the special lineage, James is the one with the knowledge of medicine, of walking the spirit world, all that. I'm a Mormon school teacher that's come from those invaders across the sea, so _why me_?" It was almost an accusation at this point and both of those massive yellow eyes stared at Johnny and focused hard on the little man.

**James is meant for other roles, the knowledge you speak of is for mentoring, teaching, healing. All those things he provides unto you. He chose you for his reasons, and I agreed to that choice. Because of Coyote, and his plan, and his choice of allies, **_**you**_** have been made vital, Jonathan Thunderbolt.**

"Okay. Just askin'. Fine. Well then, we need to shake down this Coyote." Johnny grew uneasy at the words for so many reasons, that he lost any wish to speak again. He had so many things now to think about. And he grew tired, so tired now.

"Thank you, Thunderbird, messenger of the Great Spirit, for hearing us and aiding us," James said as the words grew faint, and the bird slowly began to vanish from sight. Johnny shivered, cold now as he tried to hear what was being said, strained to see what was around him, but it no longer mattered.

Because John and James now opened their eyes inside the adobe hut, crumpled into limp, sweaty heaps. The fire was low, the steam had dissipated and the cold of night struggled to seep in, and the two men lay there. They gasped for breath and stared at each other silently and absorbed what had happened as best as they could.

* * *

_**12:41 am (Cheyenne):**_

A cry came from the back room of Doc Pedersen's office, but not like any cry Jonah had heard before that night. He looked up at the door, listening intently but afraid to move. Then the door opened, and the doctor stepped out - there was some blood on his shirt, but the man was smiling. "It's a boy," he said.

Jonah stared at the doctor, his brain still so numb with fear that he couldn't comprehend what he'd just heard. When the message finally got through, he asked, "Are they both..."

Doc Pedersen nodded, still smiling. "Mei Ling's going to be confined to bed for a few days, but she should be fine after that. And as you can hear," he said, pointing his thumb over his shoulder towards the cries, "the baby has a perfect set of lungs on him."

A short bark of a laugh escaped Jonah, releasing some of the tension inside him. He then got up and followed the doctor into the back room, where Mrs. Pedersen came up to him with a small white bundle. "He's about as perfect as God makes them," she said, and handed Jonah the bundle. Nestled within was a tiny face with almond-shaped eyes crying like there was no tomorrow. Jonah brushed a finger down the baby's cheek, amazed at how such a small thing could make such a huge amount of noise. "Hush now, yer daddy's here," he whispered.

"How does he look?" Mei Ling's voice was weak, but she was sitting up in bed and smiling, her long black hair hanging down over her shoulders.

"See fer yerself," Jonah said, and sat down on the bed next to his wife. "Yuh did a great job, sweetheart."

"We both did." She took the baby from him and said, "He's got your hair."

"An' yer eyes...the shape of 'em, at least." The baby's cries had subsided to a gurgle, and he was now looking up at his parents with eyes as blue as his father's.

"Did you two pick out a name yet?" Doc Pedersen asked.

Jonah frowned. "Actually, no. We talked over a few, but..."

"How about Jing-Shen?" Mei Ling said. "It means 'born in the city'."

"No way, no Chinese names," Jonah replied. "He's born in America, so he's gonna have proper American name." He thought a moment, then said, "Jason. Thet sounds good."

"What does 'Jason' mean?"

"Ah have no idea. We'll just say it means 'son of Jonah' and leave it at thet."

Doc Pedersen put an arm around his own wife and said, "We'll give you two a little time alone. If you like, I'll go over to the hotel and see if they have a room available, keep you from having to travel all the way back home tonight."

"Sounds fine, Doc, thanks." Jonah watched them leave, then turned his attention back to Mei Ling. He watched her quietly for a few minutes as she cooed at their newborn son in Chinese - she looked exhausted yet beautiful at the same time. Clearing his throat, he said, "Mei Ling, sugar, there's something Ah've gotta talk with yuh about."

She tilted her head to look at him. "Yes? What is it?"

"It's about..." He paused, his eyes darting away from hers. _Just tell her_, he silently said to himself. _Get it out in the open an' get it over with. If'n she hates yuh fer it...well, dammit, yuh deserve tuh be hated. At least yuh won't have tuh go around lyin' no more. Won't it feel better in the long run tuh tell the truth than tuh keep on lyin' an' makin' the problem worse?_

"Nothin'." Jonah forced a smile on his face as he looked at her again. "It's nothin' thet cain't wait a while."

* * *

_**1:22 am (Cheyenne):**_

Jeanne Walker lay on her bed in the hotel room, the silence deafening, the darkness blinding. She stared up at a ceiling she could barely make out, and continued to breathe heavy and hard as the night raced through her brain. Jonah was a killer of bad men, of outlaws; maybe someday, if Madame .44 kept on her path, he'd try to kill her as well. If so, it wouldn't be more wicked and wrong than the way she saw him tonight. There couldn't be an excuse, not after the way she talked with that sweet creature Mei Ling. Not for some screwed-up hussy like Emmylou. There was no way to forgive the man, not at all. He had devoted love and family thrust into his hands, and he chucked it for some bitch.

_He didn't run away though_, she scolded herself from out of nowhere. So sharp was the chastisement, she jumped, and sat up in bed. She looked around as her mind continued to race. _He didn't duck out of it. He went back to his wife, he tried to deal with his situation. He screwed it up like no tomorrow, but he's here, tryin' to figure it out._

She stood up and stumbled about in the dark to light a lantern, and then walked to the mirror over her dresser. She stared into the glass and saw Madame .44 look back at her. On one side was Gideon Steele; all charm and charisma and the most beautiful face she ever saw on a man. On the other side was Johnny Thunder; a do-gooder, a naïve, gawky sort of man out of his depth, but trying to do right.

"That's not all, is it?" Madame .44 asked. "When you were at your most alone, when Hex had shown you the worst you can expect, Johnny was there. Just a second, but he was, wasn't he?"

Jonah Hex was a bad man, who did something unforgivable, but he never did it without owning up to it. "If I'm going to cuss him out, I gotta do better." She pulled her suitcase out and began to pack.

* * *

_**2:53 am (Mesa City):**_

John Tane used the last of his energy to unsaddle his mount and tuck the horse safely into the stall. He groomed it as best he could, but it was a half-hearted job, and soon John wobbled to the door of the house. He gently turned the knob and slipped into the kitchen, very gently pulled the door shut again and then tried to remove his boots on the mud porch as he stumbled and staggered.

"Happy new year, son." John jumped as the voice slapped him as soon as he stepped into the kitchen proper. His father stared up from the cards laid out on the table with tired eyes and a haggard face.

"Pa," John said and then stopped. Speaking, walking, even looking, John just stopped, his brain shut down for a moment.

"Yeah, it's yer father, John." He chuckled a bit and stood up. "Found yerself quite the shindig, did ya?"

"Um, well...uh, yeah, I guess," John stammered as he stepped up to the table, and leaned against it.

"The Injun?" he asked his son as he stared into a pair of red eyes, and pale, sweat-streaked skin.

"I don't know what you're-"

"Son, stop. You got yer reasons for whatever it is yer doin', fine. I love ya, and I let ya do what ya need ta, to live with yerself," Will Tane said as he kept the eye contact and spoke to his son firmly. "But don't think I'm stupid, jest 'cause I don't talk all fancy like you and yer red friend. And don't think I don't care, either."

"I can't begin to explain what happened tonight," John said softly, and looked away ashamed.

"Was it right?"

"Huh?"

"What it the right thing ta do? Did ya get some good outta it? Is it gonna help ya?"

"I...yeah, I think it is. James and I...this helps us, with a...project."

"I believe in the Lord, and I believe in what he passed down to Moses, and to John, and to the Apostles, and to Joseph Smith." Will clapped a hand onto his son's shoulder and made John turn back to his father's gaze. "I believe in Heaven and I know there's evil in the world, and I believe the Word of Wisdom and more can save our souls." He leaned in close, as if he were worried someone would hear. "But I also came to realize a long time ago that peace is what all them fancy old words are sayin', and you don't get peace by goin' around and tellin' lots of other people they're wrong about how they find peace." He took a deep breath, and spoke these words for the first time aloud, and set them in his mind, and took the big step that was ahead. "I might git tossed into the outer darkness fer sayin' this, son, but if you got a way to find peace, to bring peace, ta do good doin' it...do it. I love ya, son, and what you gotta do ta do this, it don't matter to me as long as we have Sunday dinner and the occasional evenin' talk. Got it?"

John stared at his father and the two men hugged tight to each other for several long minutes, until his father finally broke the silence. "Oh, and so long as I git some grandkids while I can still 'preciate them too."

"Workin' on that, Pa. Actually." John smiled and Will smiled and the two men laughed as they closed the house up for the slim remainder of the night.


	8. First Born

**FIRST BORN**

_**1872:**_

There was a rhythmic _thunk _coming from the other side of the barn as the rider approached. He dismounted, then led his horse by the reins towards the source of the noise. As he rounded the corner, he caught sight of a man in a sheepskin coat chopping wood, his axe neatly cleaving each piece in two after he set it upon the stump. His back was to the rider, who opened his mouth to call a greeting, but before he could, a big gray wolf jumped up from its resting place alongside the barn wall and started growling at him.

"Dammit, Ironjaws, whut's yer problem?" Jonah Hex snapped as he sunk the blade of his axe into the stump, then turned around and touched a finger to the brim of his Confederate officer's hat. "How-do, Jimmy...thought Ah heard somebody ride up."

The rider nodded. "Afternoon, Mr. Hex. I just..." The words dried up in his mouth when he saw the wolf was still advancing. "Um, could you..."

Jonah let out a sharp whistle, and Ironjaws padded over to its master's side. "Jimmy's a friend, yuh big dope," he said to the animal, kneeling down and grabbing it by the scruff of the neck, "Man ain't never done me a bit of harm, so don't yuh go an' act like thet 'round him." He then looked up at Jimmy and said, "Now, y'all just stoppin' by tuh be sociable, or do yuh got some sort of business with me?"

"That'd be the latter." He reached into his coat and pulled out a small envelope. "Telegram came in for you today. I haven't seen you in town since your wife had the baby, so I figured I'd run it out here for you."

"Thet was right kind of yuh." Jonah stood back up and took the envelope. "Reckon Ah should give yuh something fer the trouble."

"No trouble, Mr. Hex, and no charge. It was my choice to come out here."

"Well, y'all should at least step inside fer a cup of coffee an' a spell by the fire. Ain't as cold today as it's been, but it's fer sure thet winter ain't over yet."

Jimmy gave him a broad grin. "Okay, you talked me into it. One cup, then I've gotta get back to town, otherwise Justin will think I knocked off early today."

Leaving the animals behind, the two men followed the well-trod path through the snow between the barn and the house. "Mei Ling, we've got company!" Jonah called out as he opened the front door. "Jimmy from the telegraph office decided tuh drop by."

"Hello, Jimmy. It's good to see you." Mei Ling was sitting in a rocker near the fireplace with a blanket laid across her lap and three-week-old Jason cradled in her arms.

"Good to see you too, ma'am," he replied as he removed his hat. "Some of the folks around town have been worried about you and the baby, what with him coming early and all, but you both look like you're doing fine to me."

"We're both doing very well, thank you. I still feel a little pain sometimes, but it's getting better every day." As if to prove it, she slowly got up from the rocker.

"Now, Mei Ling, yuh shouldn't be gettin' up if'n yuh don't have tuh." Jonah was over by the cast-iron stove, pouring coffee for himself and their guest. "Ah know the doc said it's fine fer y'all tuh be movin' around again, but Ah don't..."

"Standing up for a while won't do me any harm," she told her husband, then smiled at Jimmy. "Jonah has barely let me lift a finger since the baby came. He's even been trying to wash clothes."

"You mean to tell me that Jonah Hex has become fully domesticated?" Jimmy asked with a laugh.

The former bounty hunter walked over and handed the man a tin cup. "Drink yer damn coffee," he grumbled, then stood beside the fireplace. As Mei Ling and Jimmy continued to chat about the new baby and the goings-on back in town, Jonah took a few sips from his own cup, then opened the envelope and read the telegram:

_Though the reasons for your absence are plain, never let it be said that I hold_

_any ill will towards you, nor towards your new family, about which I just learned._

_The Lord has seen fit to grant you reprieve from all the sorrows He once laid_

_upon you, and if you will permit me, I only wish to add my blessings to the ones_

_you've already been given._

_- T.B._

The coffee Jonah had poured for himself slowly grew cold as he stood there, his face blank but his eyes fixed upon the telegram. When Jimmy had finished his share and bid the Hexes farewell, Jonah didn't even look up. It wasn't until Mei Ling came over and touched his arm that Jonah seemed to become aware of the world around him again. "Who's the telegram from?" she asked him.

"Nobody." He crumpled it before she could read anything, then tossed it into the fire. "It ain't important."

"It must be important to some degree. Even Jimmy thought so, since he rode all the way out here to deliver it."

"Maybe Jimmy ain't so all-fired smart as he looks." He drank from his cup, made a face, and set it on the mantel.

"Jonah, if something's wrong..."

"_Dammit_, woman, why the Hell do yuh have tuh keep buttin' yer nose in where it ain't wanted?" he yelled. "If'n Ah _say_ something ain't important, then _it ain't_, an' _thet_ should be a good enough answer fer yuh!"

Mei Ling flinched at his harsh tone and hugged little Jason, who began to wail from all the noise. "Oh, look what you did," she said, turning away from Jonah. "You scared the baby."

"Ah wasn't tryin' tuh, Ah just..." He reached out for her, then let his hand fall to his side as she moved further away, speaking softly to their infant son all the while. "Ah've got some things tuh finish outside," he said in a quieter voice, and went back out into the yard.

The rest of the day was rather sedate, with Jonah keeping himself busy out by the barn until suppertime. There was some small talk passed between him and Mei Ling as they ate, but the subject of Jonah's previous outburst was never brought up. He could tell that she hadn't forgiven him for it, but he also made no move to apologize, because that meant possibly telling her why he'd gotten so riled up in the first place. So he kept mum, even as they prepared for bed and Mei Ling only gave him the briefest of kisses before lying down.

Years of living by the gun meant that Jonah Hex never fully slept: one ear was always attuned to the world around him, listening for anything that didn't fit the nocturnal lull. Unfortunately, what had once been an ability that had saved his life on countless occasions was now a hindrance, as it meant he could hear every cough and cry his son made over the course of the night. And this night was no different, with the baby starting to mewl out of nowhere a few hours after they'd turned in. Jonah laid there, listening and waiting to see if the baby would stop on his own as he sometimes did, but then the mewling grew higher in pitch, meaning that it would soon turn into a full blown wail. _We ain't havin' thet_, Jonah thought, and eased himself out of bed.

The cradle sat in the corner of the bedroom, and Jonah bent over it to scoop up his son. "Whut's the fuss about, little man?" he whispered, patting the baby's diapered bottom. "Yer powder's dry...hungry, maybe?" He brushed the tip of his little finger against Jason's lip, but the baby didn't try to suckle. "Nope, not hungry." He glanced at Mei Ling's still-sleeping form. "Well, if'n yo're not gonna hush up, then let's skedaddle afore yuh wake up yer ma."

Wrapping a blanket around the baby, Jonah carried him into the front room. Embers were still glowing in the fireplace, and Ironjaws was stretched out in front of it to take advantage of the waning warmth. The wolf lifted its head as its longjohn-clad master knelt down to throw a few logs on. "Don't mind us," Jonah said, poking the embers until the fire came back to life. Ironjaws decided not to, and settled back down just as Jonah settled into the rocker. All the motion seemed to calm the baby, whose cries became fewer, and he relaxed in the crook of his father's arm. "Thet's better," Jonah said. "Y'all ain't no reason tuh be fussin' like thet."

Little Jason looked up at him, the light from the fire bringing a shine to his blue eyes.

"Okay, maybe yuh got a bit of a reason, whut with how Ah was yellin' at yer ma today. Weren't nothin' personal, mind yuh, Ah just didn't want tuh tell her 'bout something. Still don't." He shifted about in the rocker. "There's only two people in the world thet know the whole truth of it all, an' yo're lookin' at one of 'em. Call me stubborn, but thet's the way Ah'd like tuh keep it."

The baby gurgled and kicked his legs like he was swimming.

"It ain't a pretty story, believe me," Jonah continued, "but Ah reckon if anybody's got a right tuh hear it, y'all do, seein' as how it does concern yuh, in a way. Just don't tell yer ma."

Gently pushing the rocker back and forth, he said, "It all started a couple years after the War...Ah ain't gonna explain 'bout thet right now 'cause it ain't important tuh this, 'cept tuh say thet things was still kind of a mess down South because of it. Anyways, there was this group of fellas goin' 'round securin' land fer the Federal government, only they weren't too scrupulous in how they did it. One day, they came across a family thet wouldn't give up their homeplace, so they set tuh slaughterin' the whole lot of 'em. Every last man, woman an' child in thet family died by their hands...'cept fer one.

"Tallulah Black, thet was her name. A woman with a fire in her belly them skunks couldn't put out. They did their best tuh try, though: blasted out one of her eyes, raped her, carved up her woman-parts...if'n anybody in this world ever had the right tuh just give up an' die, Tallulah did. But she refused tuh do so, an' instead swore on the blood of her kin tuh kill every last one of 'em fer whut they did. An' thet's where Ah come in. She'd gotten wind of me from somewheres, 'bout how Ah could be just as ruthless as them fellas she was after. When she found me an' told me her troubles, Ah thought she wanted tuh hire me tuh do the deed, but it turned out she wanted me tuh _teach_ her, so's she could do it herself.

"Like Ah said, she had a fire in her belly, an' Ah could smell the blaze the moment Ah saw her. Ah had thet same fire burnin' in muhself, y'see, so Ah knew she'd go on her vengeance trail with or without muh help. Least Ah could do was tip the odds in her favor. So Ah taught her. She took tuh the gun like a duck tuh water: real steady hand, never complained, never flinched. Fer three months, Ah put her through every test Ah could think of, an' she aced 'em all. At some point durin' them three months...reckon thet's when Ah fell in love with her."

Jonah sighed and shook his head. "Mind yuh, Ah didn't love her the same way Ah love yer ma. Mei Ling's a delicate little thing, somebody yuh want tuh hold close an' protect from all the evil in the world, while Tallulah...she was a hellcat, through an' through, with a mouth thet could be sweet an' venomous all at the same time. Ain't easy tuh love a gal like thet, but Ah reckon Ah did 'cause she was so much like muhself. Why the Lord decided tuh inflict the world with _two_ people like thet, Ah'll never know. He did, though, an' He saw fit tuh partner us up so's Ah could help Tallulah get her vengeance, which she did right proper. An' once thet was done...Ah left her."

The baby made a noise somewhere between a grunt and a hiccup.

"Ah know it don't make no sense, walkin' away from somebody yuh love, but up 'til thet point in muh life, everybody Ah'd loved had been taken from me, sometimes in right nasty ways. Tallulah was tough, yeah, but thet didn't mean Ah couldn't lose her just like the rest, so in muh mind, the best thing Ah could do was break it off with her afore anything awful happened. Of course, the Lord gets funny ideas sometimes, an' He must've looked down on us an' thought, 'Nope, Ah cain't let it end thet easy,' so he done made sure thet we'd cross paths again. Only the next time, Ah was the one who'd had horrors set upon 'em, an' Tallulah came tuh me in muh hour of need." Jonah paused, a hint of a smile coming to his face. "Said she was muh guardian angel. Ain't thet a hoot? There Ah was, wadin' straight into the devil's den, an' she don't even hesitate tuh follow. Woman was plumb crazy, doin' thet, but it only made me love her more.

"Weren't no shakin' her after thet. Me an' her, we was a force tuh be reckoned with. Hell, us just walkin' into a place was enough tuh scare the piss outta some folks. Didn't make no dif'rence tuh us, we was havin' the time of our lives. Never met nobody thet could keep up with me like she could, be it drinkin' or fightin' or...well, let's just say she weren't shy 'bout certain matters." He cleared his throat, then said, "It went on like thet fer a good long while, just the two of us against every no-account skunk the West could throw at us, then one day, she up an' left. No warnin', no note, just rode off afore sunrise. Didn't make much sense tuh me at the time, but since Ah'd done it tuh her not long back, Ah figured she was entitled tuh do the same. 'Sides, if'n it was meant tuh be, then our paths would cross again. An' sure enough, Ah found her months later.

"Nine months later, tuh be exact."

The rocker slowed to a stop, and Jonah fell silent for a few minutes. Then he swallowed hard and said, "Ah'd tracked some fellas Ah was after tuh this little podunk. They was tearin' the place up, an' Ah was figurin' on sneakin' right up an' cuttin' 'em down afore things got too outta hand. But then ah hear a scream, an' even though Ah'd never heard her make such a ruckus afore, Ah knew in muh gut it was Tallulah. Ah found her, an'...there was blood everywhere, an' her belly had been...Ah kind of lost muh head at the sight of it, forgot all about the fellas Ah was after. Ah spirited her away from thet place, an' when she'd recovered a bit, she told me. About the baby. _Our_ baby. Thet's why she'd left, 'cause she'd realized she was pregnant, and she'd thought...after all we'd been through, she thought Ah wouldn't want it. Truth tuh tell, Ah don't know how Ah would've reacted if'n she'd told me outright instead of runnin' - Hell, Ah didn't even think she _could_ get pregnant, after whut'd been done tuh her - but Ah like tuh think thet Ah wouldn't have been as cold tuh the idea as Tallulah imagined. But Ah'll never know fer sure, 'cause she never gave me the chance.

"Wish Ah could say thet's the worst part of the tale, but it ain't. Worst part is why she'd been screamin' so. In thet little podunk Tallulah had holed up in, there'd been this woman, a Bible-thumper named Abigail. A mite touched in the head, she was, an' when all them fellas Ah'd been after rode into town wreakin' havoc, she done got the notion thet the Judgment Day had come, an' Tallulah...she thought Tallulah was havin' the Devil's baby. So she cut it outta her...stole it. By the time Ah'd tracked down...thet _bitch_..."

The muscles in Jonah's jaw clenched tight as the memories bled through his mind like fresh wounds: first of Abigail spouting off about righteous vengeance even as he took out his own brand of vengeance upon her, then of a tiny body laying so still within a knitted blanket. The second memory was the one that always shook him to the core, just knowing that he'd gained and lost a child - a daughter - in the blink of an eye. He could still feel the weight of her body in his hands as he picked her up, clutching her to his chest and shocking himself with the sobs that suddenly began coming from his throat. He couldn't remember how long he'd stayed like that, holding her tight while he cursed God and Abigail and Tallulah and anyone else he could think of that might be remotely responsible for the death of this innocent child. Most of all, loudest of all, he cursed himself and his weakness, for had he never laid with Tallulah, this child would have never been conceived, never suffered during her brief moments of existence, never borne the punishment for her father's sins...

Then he heard an infant's cry, and he looked down to see that he was pressing little Jason's body tightly against his chest. Jonah relaxed his grip, smoothing the baby's hair back from his pinched face. His son's hair was red, like his own, and he remembered how his daughter's head had been crowned with dark-brown locks from her mother. Both had inherited Jonah's clear blue eyes, though. "Ah'm sorry," he whispered, "but now yuh see why Ah don't want tuh tell yer ma 'bout all this."

Ironjaws looked up at them until the baby's cries began to subside down to a sniffle, then set its furry head back onto its paws.

Setting the rocker back into motion, Jonah told his son, "As yuh kin imagine, things weren't the same between Tallulah an' me after thet. Most of the love Ah had fer her died along with thet baby, so Ah left her, one last time...thet telegram today was the first Ah've heard from her since then. Frankly, Ah could've done without it: Ah've had more'n enough reminders of whut could've been ever since yer ma told me she had yuh in her belly." He frowned a little. "Ah tried not tuh let on, but Mei Ling scared the piss outta me every time she said she wanted a girl. Ah don't think Ah would've felt right 'bout it, had y'all been a girl instead of a boy. It would be like her ghost was still hangin' around.

"Reckon it might've been nice fer yuh, though, had she lived. Ah didn't have no siblings growin' up, but Ah imagine thet things might've been a bit dif'rent fer me if'n Ah'd had one. Maybe not so rough." His eyes wandered away for a moment, then he said, "Ain't no sense in wishin' fer things like thet. Maybe later on, me an' yer ma will give yuh a sister, but it won't be her. She's gone, an' thet's it. Still...yuh have the right tuh know thet yuh weren't muh first child." Jonah sat the baby upon his knee. "Yo're muh first little boy, though, an' Ah love yuh just as dearly as Ah love yer ma. Don't ever forget thet. An' so long as Ah still draw breath, Ah'll never let any harm come tuh y'all. Ah'll never lay a hand on yuh, neither, not like muh pa did with me. Ah'm gonna do muh level best tuh be the sort of father thet Ah wish Ah'd had, but in return, yo're gonna have tuh do some things fer me."

Pointing a finger at his son, Jonah said, "Never cross me. Never lie, or steal, or bend fer favor. Never betray a trust. Never inflict pain deliberately unless the situation warrants it. An' most important, _never_ set me as yer example, 'cause even though Ah've only broken a couple of them rules, Ah broke 'em in right awful ways, an' Ah don't want y'all tuh make the same mistakes in life thet Ah did."

As if in reply, little Jason reached out and took hold of his father's finger, giving him a toothless grin all the while. "Reckon thet's as good as a handshake," Jonah said with a grin of his own. "Come on, little man, Ah think it's time we got back tuh bed." He cradled the baby in his arms again and stood up, but as he began to make his way down the hall, the baby started to fuss and mewl the same as before. "Whut? Y'all want tuh sit up a mite longer?" Jonah turned around and went back to the rocker - the closer he got, the quieter the baby seemed to become. "Okay...won't hurt us none if'n we spend some more time out here," he said as he sat down again. "When yo're ready tuh leave, yuh just let me know." He laid the baby against his chest and leaned back, stifling a yawn as he did so.

And that was how Mei Ling found them the next morning: father and son, sleeping in the rocker as slim beams of sunlight snuck in through the cracks in the shutters.


	9. Domestic Disturbance

**DOMESTIC DISTURBANCE**

_**1872:**_

Droplets of melted snow dripped from the naked tree branches and onto the brim of Beau Cochrane's hat. He would have moved to escape the annoyance, but the grove he was standing in, sparse as it was, provided him and his men adequate cover from prying eyes. Not that anyone should be expecting them to be there, but Cochrane was taking no chances, not with this man. He had to admit, part of him had grown to admire Jonah Hex over the past year; traitor to the Cause he may have been, Hex was also a model of efficiency when it came to killing, wasting neither bullet nor breath when pursuing his quarry. If the rumors were to be believed, Hex had laid hundreds of men to waste since the War, and Cochrane was determined to make sure he wasn't counted among that number. So after finding out that Jonah Hex had supposedly "retired" and taken up residence in Cheyenne, Cochrane had notified his employer of the situation, then carefully chosen the men that would assist him in taking down the notorious bounty hunter. It hadn't been an easy task: whenever he mentioned who the intended target was, many men turned tail and ran. Then there were the ones who wanted to pursue Hex purely for the sake of their own reputation, but lacked any actual talent to do so, thereby making them useless to Cochrane's plans. After a while, though, he'd picked out four men that fit the bill; each of them were experienced gunmen who'd previously come into contact with Hex, and each of them had scores to settle with him, so they had no qualms about what was to follow.

"When do we move in?" Bill Granger asked Cochrane as they looked upon the small cabin a half-mile away from the grove. He'd barely escaped there with his life seven months before, when he and two other hands from Fenrick's ranch had come to torch Windy Taylor's home and met up with Jonah Hex instead. Though Fenrick was long since ruined and Hex now owner of Windy's old place, Granger still desired revenge for the two friends he'd lost that day.

Cochrane pulled a collapsible spyglass out of his coat, saying, "Soon as I'm sure we can close the distance relatively unseen." He wrapped a handkerchief around the brass tube so the sunlight wouldn't reflect off of it, then brought it to his eye. "There's no cover around this place, save for these here trees, so once we leave 'em, Hex could spot us right easy."

Joe Bauer, who'd lost all six members of his outlaw family to Hex's wrath, pointed towards the barn that lay to the side of the property. "Reckon if we keep that between us and the house, it should hide us well enough."

Dooley Dalton turned his head so as to look at the barn with his right eye, having lost his left when Hex nearly caved his skull in with a rifle butt two years earlier, his penance for spitting in the bounty hunter's face after he had been captured. "Might work," he eventually concurred, adding, "If we wait until the barn's shadow is falling towards us, we won't be so noticeable against all that snow."

"Sounds like a good idea." Cochrane examined the whole of the area through the spyglass. "It'll be about an hour until the sun..." He paused, then swung the spyglass back to where he'd previously been looking. "Damnation."

"What's going on?" Dale Dalton, who'd taken up the criminal lifestyle two years ago when he sprung his half-blinded older brother from the jail Hex dumped him in, pushed his way to the front of the group. "Is it Hex? Can you see him?" He started to walk out from under the trees, but Cochrane grabbed Dale's collar and violently yanked him back. "Cut it out! I just want to look!"

"I ain't payin' you to look, runt," Cochrane growled, then pointed towards a dark speck moving in the distance. "But since you're so all-fired curious, someone's comin' this way."

"Can you tell who?" Bauer asked.

After lifting the spyglass again and taking a peek, Cochrane said, "I think the man's one of Hex's drinkin' buddies."

Granger held out a hand, and Cochrane passed over the spyglass. "I know 'em," he said once he'd focused on the approaching buckboard. "They're local, for sure...a married couple. I forget their names, though."

"Won't matter once they're dead," Dooley replied.

"Nobody touches 'em." Cochrane took back the spyglass and collapsed it with a snap. "They're not our targets, so forget all about 'em. Our only concern is Hex."

Dale asked, "So, what do we do now?"

Cochrane laid a hand upon the pistol strapped to his hip. "We bide our time, and keep our guns at the ready."

* * *

"Ah think Ah hear 'em comin'," Jonah called down the hall to his wife. "Y'all decent back there?"

"Just a minute." Mei Ling emerged from the bedroom in a plum-colored dress, patting little Jason on the back in an effort to burp him. Though he'd been born a few weeks premature, he had put on a good amount of weight over the past month, and looked as happy and healthy as any baby his age. After he let out a satisfying burp, Mei Ling smiled and kissed him on the forehead, saying, "Very good...don't you feel better now?"

"Sugar, yuh might want tuh..." Jonah gestured towards the undone buttons on the front of Mei Ling's dress. She blushed and, after handing the baby to Jonah, fixed the problem. "Thet'd better hold yuh fer a few hours," he told his son, holding the baby high above his head. "Yer mama cain't exactly feed yuh in the middle of polite company."

A look of worry crossed Mei Ling's face. "Jonah, put him down. You might drop him."

"Ah ain't gonna drop him. 'Sides, he likes it...don'tcha, little man?" As if in reply, Jason squealed and kicked his feet beneath the long white gown his mother dressed him in.

"Well, _I _don't like it." She held out her hands, and Jonah passed the baby back to her. "Why do you always have to play so rough with him?"

"He ain't made of eggshells, woman, so quit..." There was a knock at the door, bringing an end to the argument, or at least a pause. Ever since they'd brought Jason home, Mei Ling seemed wary every time Jonah touched him, as if she were afraid he'd treat him just as poorly as Jonah's own father had treated him. Jonah kept telling himself that it was only her motherly instinct kicking in, but whatever the cause, it was getting on his nerves. He had to push his frustrations aside for now, however, and forced a smile on his face as he opened the front door and said, "Glad y'all could make it."

"It was kind of you to invite us, Mr. Hex," Izzy's wife Patricia replied, and handed over a still-warm apple pie. Izzy himself was over by their buckboard unhitching the pair of horses. "Ezekiel!" she called to him. "You should at least come up here and say hello before you busy yourself with that!"

"Yes, dear." Everybody in Cheyenne knew how henpecked Izzy was, and the way he scurried up the porch at his wife's insistence did nothing to dispel that image. "Hi, Jonah...Mei Ling," he said, nodding to each in turn.

"Hello, Izzy," Mei Ling replied, then said to both of them, "I hope you don't mind, but supper might be a little late. The chicken is taking longer to cook than I expected."

"Oh, don't worry about it, dear. We'll just have more time to visit together, that's all." Patricia stepped over and scooped Jason out of his mother's arms. "Goodness, look at you! Aren't we a handsome little boy."

The two men glanced at each other as Patricia continued to coo at the infant. "Dollars tuh dumplings says she's gonna want another kid soon," Jonah whispered.

"Lord, I hope not. We've got seven already," Izzy whispered back.

Patricia suddenly looked over at them, and they both froze, thinking they'd been overheard. But then she said, "Shut the door, Ezekiel! The draft isn't good for the baby!"

"Yes, dear." Izzy started to step out of the doorway, then stopped. "Oh, wait...the horses. Jonah, do you want to..."

"Gladly." He put the pie on the kitchen table and followed his friend out, both of them eager to get away from the overbearing presence of Izzy's wife.

Each of the men set about unhitching a horse, then leading it towards the barn so as to give it some shelter from the chilly afternoon. As Jonah walked across the yard, his eyes went to a stand of trees in the distance. Perhaps it was merely the sunlight reflecting off of the snow, but something didn't look quite right up there. Before he could pin it down, however, Izzy asked him, "Where's Ironjaws hiding?"

"Dumb animal spotted a rabbit this morning an' took off a-runnin'...ain't been back since." He turned his gaze from the trees and smirked at Izzy. "Whut's the matter? Afraid he's gonna jump out an' chew yer leg off?"

"You wouldn't think it so funny if _you'd _gotten bit by him before."

"He _has_ bit me afore. Ah didn't scream like a girl like y'all did, though." Jonah pulled the barn doors open and led one of the horses to an empty stall near the back, saying, "Ain't really got the room in here fer both of 'em, but if'n we keep the doors shut, they should be fine." He then checked on his own pair of horses, patting each of them on the neck as he spoke softly to them.

Meanwhile, Izzy hung back a ways from Jonah, hands shoved in his pockets and a concerned look on his face. After a few minutes of silent debate, he said, "Hex, can I ask you about something?"

"Depends on whut yer askin'."

"Well, it's...it's about this rumor going around town. I mean...I know you have this reputation for being a wild sort, so maybe this just kind of spun out of that. Plus, Mike _does_ love to rib on you..."

"Get tuh the point, Izzy."

The goat farmer gulped, then managed to say, "Mike's been telling people that he saw you with that Hartley gal on New Year's Eve, and that the two of you had, um...had relations."

Jonah's back was to Izzy, and he was thankful for that, because he could feel all the color drain out of his face. He clamped a hand on the side of the stall as he fought to regain his composure. Once he was sure he could do so, Jonah said in a calm tone, "When did Mike tell yuh this yarn?"

"He didn't. I heard it from Steve Genesee when I ran into him last week outside the bank. He knows you and me and Mike are all friends, so he asked me if it was true."

That bit of information made Jonah feel like he'd been stabbed in the gut: Steve Genesee's wife was the biggest gossip in town. Slowly, he turned around so he could look Izzy dead in the eye. "Who else knows 'bout this?"

* * *

"I really hated being the one to tell you about this," Patricia said as she stirred her tea, "but I also could not sit here in your presence and hold my tongue about it. It was hard enough to not berate your husband when he stopped by the other day to invite us over."

"That's all right, Patricia," Mei Ling answered, though in reality, it was far from all right. When she'd gotten the idea to invite Izzy and Patricia over for supper, it had been with the intention of thanking them for their kindness to both her and Jonah during her pregnancy. But that was far from her mind now, having been driven out by visions of her husband laying with another woman while Mei Ling had been struggling to bring their son into the world. She stared into the depths of her teacup as she sat at the kitchen table with Jason in her lap. This _had _to be a lie. She knew Jonah loved her, he'd shown her that love in so many ways...but she also knew he'd been acting oddly for months now. Ever since he'd rescued Emmylou Hartley up in the mountains, in fact.

"To tell the truth, I'm not all that surprised," Patricia continued. "Both he and that Hartley girl have consorted with savages, and everyone knows what a bad influence _they_ can be." She sipped her tea in a delicate manner, then set it on the table. "They're more like animals than people, and I'm sure that living amongst them as they did could taint the mind of even the most God-fearing person."

"Jonah's not a savage," Mei Ling said quietly, but she was thinking of when he'd fought those railroad men in Tanglewood, clad only in splashes of blood from himself and his victims.

"He certainly isn't tame, either. I'm sorry to say, Mei Ling, that I've found it to be a failing on your part. Someone like Jonah Hex needs to be held on a much tighter leash. Take my Ezekiel, for example: I allow him to go to that silly saloon of his, but only when all the work around the house is done and all the children's needs are met...and even then, he _must_ be home at a certain time. No exceptions. If he breaks those rules, then there are consequences. You need to do that with Jonah: teach him that his actions have con..."

The front door banged open, scaring Patricia so badly that her lecture abruptly ended with a shriek. Mei Ling let out a cry as well and clutched the baby. When they looked over at the door, they saw Jonah standing there with an ice-cold look in his eyes. "Get the Hell out of muh house," he snarled.

Patricia gaped at him. "How dare you speak to me like that!"

"Ah'll dare tuh speak tuh y'all any way Ah please, yuh frog-faced witch! Now go on an' _git_!" Jonah took hold of Patricia's arm, then dragged her out of the chair and over to the door. She tried to pull away, but he pulled even harder, until he'd forced her out onto the porch. Once there, she saw that Izzy was already in the midst of hitching the horses back up.

Her face red, Patricia said to her husband, "Ezekiel! How can you stand there and let him treat me like this?"

"'Cause he knows Ah'll break his head open if'n he tried tuh stop me," Hex replied, then went back into the house. Patricia thought that was the end of it, but then he reappeared with the pie in his hand, saying, "Here's a little something fer the trip home!" He shoved the pie into Patricia's hands so roughly that it ended up all over the front of her dress. "Now, get the Hell off'n muh land, an' if'n Ah ever see yuh within a hunnert feet of muh wife again, Ah'm liable tuh get _real_ cross with yuh." And with that, Jonah slammed the door in Patricia's beet-red face.

* * *

"What in blazes is going on down there?" Joe Bauer shaded his eyes as he tried to puzzle out the commotion on the far-off porch. "They ain't even been there twenty minutes, an' they're leavin' already?"

Granger said to Cochrane, "Do you think Hex got wind of us? I swear he looked right this way when he was out in the yard."

"No, this is something else." Though the words themselves were indistinct, Jonah's angry tone carried perfectly across the distance between the house and the grove of trees. "Whatever this is, it's got him riled up something fierce," Cochrane added.

"I'm not so keen on this now," Dooley said. "Hex is dangerous under any conditions, but when he's mad..." His hand wandered up to the patch covering his empty eye socket.

Cochrane glared at the man. "I'll be damned if I'm going to let you break off now, Dalton, so just shut your mouth and grow a pair." He took out his spyglass again and surveyed the area; the departing couple would soon be over the ridge and out of sight of the house, while Hex and his wife were preoccupied with each other within the house itself, going by what little movement he could catch through the windows. "Get ready to start movin' towards the barn, just like we discussed," Cochrane told the others. "Ain't no way I'm gonna let a distraction like this go to waste."

* * *

"What's wrong with you?" The baby was starting to wail due to all the commotion, and Mei Ling bounced the baby up and down in her arms while she glared at her husband. "You're acting like you've gone crazy."

Jonah stabbed a finger at her. "Don't yuh go sayin' things like thet. Ah've got muh reasons, an' Ah don't have tuh explain 'em."

"Yes you do, Jonah. Those are my friends as well...or at least they _were_ before you insulted them and threw them out of the house."

"They _ain't_ our friends. They're a bunch of lyin', backstabbin' _skunks_!" He began to pace the room. "Ah don't want y'all tuh go into town fer a while, not until Ah get some folks' heads straight on certain matters thet weren't none of their business in the first place."

"And to just what matters are you referring?"

"Don't worry yer head 'bout it. Yuh don't need tuh know."

"I think I already _do_ know." Mei Ling took a deep breath, then said in as even a tone as possible, "This has to do with that Hartley girl you saved, doesn't it?"

Jonah stopped pacing and looked at her. "Ah don't know whut yuh mean," he replied.

"Please..._please_ don't lie to me, Jonah." Mei Ling felt her voice crack, but she kept going. "Patricia told me some things that I really don't want to believe..."

"Then _don't _believe 'em, sugar." He almost sounded like he was begging.

"...but I can't imagine why someone would make these things up," she continued. "I love you, Jonah, and I always will, no matter what the truth is. And as your wife, I have a _right _to know the truth instead of being kept in the dark. Don't you believe that as well?"

He looked at her in stony silence, his face a blank mask. Then he turned away from her and started to pace the room again. As she watched him, tears began to roll down her cheeks, and she said hoarsely, "So, that's it then? You would rather continue to lie than tell me the truth with your own lips?" She stepped forward, reaching out for him. "Please, why won't you say..."

"Whut _should_ Ah say?" he snapped. "Y'all want details? Yuh want me tuh tell yuh every dirty little thing we did? Would thet make yuh feel _better_ 'bout all this?" He loomed over her, his face twisting with rage as he said, "Maybe Ah should tell yuh how she doesn't nag the Hell outta me or criticize every damn thing Ah do!"

Mei Ling backpedaled, clutching the baby tightly. "I don't criticize you," she replied in a shaky voice. "I never..."

"Thet a fact? Then how come y'all made me hang up muh guns? How come yo're always tellin' me thet Ah'm too loud or too rough?" He jabbed a finger against his chest. "Y'all knew who Ah was when yuh married me, yet yuh've done yer damnedest tuh turn me into somebody else ever since then."

"I didn't _make _you hang up your guns," Mei Ling answered, "you did it of your own free will. As for changing you...are you saying that the loving and gentle man I saw within you when we first met does not exist?"

"Ah'm sayin' yuh'd rather Ah be nothin' _but_ thet. Y'all want me tuh forget thet Ah ever even _held_ a gun, much less used one. Dammit, woman, yuh cain't geld a man an' expect him tuh be happy about it!"

"Is that why you...you slept with her? Because she makes you feel like the man you think that I won't let you be?"

The statement seemed to take some of the edge off of Jonah's anger. "No, no...Ah don't know." He ran a hand over his face and said, "It was a mistake. She just kept hangin' on me an'...Ah swear, Ah broke the whole affair off with her thet night. Ah ain't seen her since."

"You broke off the affair? Are you saying that you slept with her _more than once_?"

Silence hung in the room, then Jonah said, "Twice. We only done it twice, Ah swear."

"_Only_ twice? I suppose you want me to be grateful that it was _only _twice?" She began to sob anew. "It certainly speaks of how much you love _me_ that you _only_ slept with that girl _twice_."

"Thet ain't whut Ah meant, an' yuh know it."

"I don't know what you mean anymore about _anything_." Mei Ling turned away from Jonah, hugging the baby as if to protect him from the ugly reality that had been presented to her. "I don't even know who you _are _now."

* * *

"Sounds like they're having quite the row in there," Dooley said as the last of their group approached the side of the barn. "Hard to hear exactly what they're sayin', but I think Hex just accused the Chinese gal of gelding him."

"Hex deserves nothing less," Bauer replied.

"And by the time we're done with him, he'll wish a gelding was all he got." Cochrane peered around the corner at the house. Through the window, he could see the woman turning her back to Hex, both of them seemingly unaware of the five men standing in the shadow of their barn. "Hey, runt," Cochrane said to Dale, "you as good with that rifle as your brother says?"

"Damn right I am." Dale slipped the weapon off his shoulder. "What you got in mind?"

"Bit of insurance," Cochrane replied.

* * *

Jonah ran a hand through his hair as he watched Mei Ling's back tremble from her sobs. _Lord, Ah want tuh fix this, Ah really do_, he thought, _but damned if'n Ah kin think of a way how_. "Listen tuh me, sugar," he said after a while, "Ah know it's gonna be a long time - if ever - afore yuh kin forgive me, but Ah promise yuh, Ah ain't givin' up on us. Yo're still muh wife, an' Ah'm still yer husband, an' we've both got thet there baby tuh look after. Just 'cause Ah was an idiot fer a while doesn't mean Ah forgot muh responsibilities. Less'n yuh say otherwise, Ah'm stayin' right here. Okay?"

Mei Ling didn't answer or even turn to look at him, she just continued to sob.

"Please, sugar, Ah'm still the same man yuh married. Maybe Ah ain't as good a man as yuh thought, but y'all said yuh'd love me no matter what, an' Ah'm hopin' y'all meant it." She still didn't answer, so Jonah began to step towards her, reaching a hand out so he could turn her around as he said, "Even if yuh didn't mean it, Ah swear Ah'll always love..."

The report of the rifle was muffled, but the sound of breaking glass was loud and clear as the bullet shattered the window, flying straight and true into Jonah's back. It exited high out of his chest, piercing the edge of his right lung in the process, then whizzed past Mei Ling's head, missing her by inches, and embedded itself in the far wall. For a moment, neither of them realized what had happened, then a second bullet slammed into Jonah, further to the left this time, where it wedged itself between his back ribs and his spinal cord. His legs began to buckle from the trauma, but he had enough sense of mind to grab hold of Mei Ling and pull her to the floor with him, grunting, "Get down!" A third and fourth bullet soon followed, but there were no targets left within their path save for the wall.

Holding the baby even tighter now as they all lay on the floor, Mei Ling said, "What's going on? What's happening?" She placed a hand on Jonah's back, then pulled it away suddenly when she felt the sticky blood beneath her palm. "Oh God...are you all right?"

"Cain't...move...muh legs," was all he got a chance to say before the front door was kicked open. Mei Ling looked up to see four men standing there, all with guns pointed directly at them. A fifth man with a rifle soon joined them as they filed into the house.

"Hello there," one of the men said. "Is that chicken I smell cookin'?" Another man stepped forward and hauled Mei Ling to her feet - she cried out and struggled to get out of his grip, but with the baby in her arms, she couldn't manage. A third man with a patch over one eye turned Jonah onto his back with the toe of his boot and said to the man with the rifle, "You did a good job, little brother."

"Out...get out...muh house," Jonah gasped, his vision swimming with white spots from all the pain.

"Not until you get what you're due," the first man said, then the man with the patch kicked Jonah viciously in the side of the head, knocking him out cold.

* * *

All he could feel was pain. It wasn't just the bullet wounds in his back, either: every breath he took ignited red-hot coals in his chest, and his arms were slowly being ripped from their sockets, not to mention the vice locked around his head. Jonah has faced pains like this on an almost-daily basis as a bounty hunter, but it had been such a long time since he'd done so that his body had grown accustomed to not being constantly abused. And now, when he needed to be as awake and alert as possible, his body was no longer up to the challenge, so he had to take the time to tell his body not to feel anything. Pain didn't exist, it was just an excuse weaker men used when they failed at being men, and dammit, _he wasn't weak_.

Far away, someone was crying. Not himself, he knew that, the pain hadn't driven him that low. He recognized the cries, but the pain was making it difficult to think of who was making them. Then he heard a second cry, distinct from the first, and his mind puzzled it out. _Jason...Mei Ling...NO!_

Jonah's head jerked up from his chest as his mind bolted back to consciousness. He expected to still be inside the house, but instead, he found himself hanging a few feet above the floor of his barn. His hands were tied together with rope, which had been looped onto the hook-and-pulley system attached to the rafters inside the barn. Just below him and to his right stood one of the gunmen - after a moment, Jonah recognized him as Joe Bauer. "Well, well...look who finally woke up," Bauer said as he looked up at Hex with a grin.

"About damn time," someone outside of Jonah's field-of-view said. "Turn him around."

Bauer placed a hand on Jonah's calf and slowly spun him until he could see the others. Mei Ling was tied up on the floor halfway between the barn door and Jonah, with another gunman - Jonah didn't know this one - standing behind her, and his wailing son was in the arms of a man whose face looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't place it at first. Then it hit him: "Cochrane...y'all were up in the mountains with Hart when Ah went missin'."

"Very good of you to remember. Saves me the trouble of introductions." Cochrane stepped towards him, saying, "I'd been lookin' for you for a long while, Jonah Hex, and I was glad to finally come face-to-face with you. I was doubly glad that I didn't find you dead."

"Why's thet? Y'all got some sort of beef with me?" Jonah nodded as best he could towards Bauer. "Ah know why _this _jackass would come gunnin' fer me, but Ah ain't even met yuh afore thet day, Cochrane."

"This isn't personal, Hex...not for me, at least. This is pure business. Tell me true, now: does the name Quentin Turnbull mean anything to you?"

"It might," Jonah answered in as even a tone as he could muster.

"Then I don't have to elaborate on why exactly Turnbull wants you dead? Or rather..." Cochrane pinched little Jason's chin between his thumb and forefinger, making him wail louder. "Why he wants your whole family dead?"

"Yuh sonovabitch!" Jonah yelled, and began to thrash upon the hook, to which Bauer responded by picking up a nearby shovel and smacking Hex across his injured back with it. That action caused Mei Ling to scream, so the gunman behind her grabbed her roughly by the hair and told her to shut up. Cochrane caught sight of that and said, "Hands off her, Granger! She'll be taken care of soon enough."

Teeth gritted against the pain, Jonah said, "Whut did he tell yuh, Cochrane? Did he feed yuh some cock-an'-bull story 'bout betrayin' the Cause? Thet ain't the full truth, believe me."

"Frankly, the truth of it doesn't matter to me anymore. I've learned a lot about you these past few months, Hex, and I've come to believe that gettin' rid of you will be doin' the world a huge favor. You've built your life on other people's misery, startin' with Turnbull's family, and bein' that I'm someone who's had many miseries unjustly visited upon him, I'm not inclined to let you get away with such a thing. Therefore, the time has come for you to do what you do best." Cochrane nodded at Granger, who holstered his gun and pulled out a knife in its place, while Cochrane did the same, both of them holding the blades to their respective hostages' throats. "You get to stand idly by while two innocent people die for your sins."

* * *

Ironjaws trotted through the snow, a dead rabbit hanging from its mouth. It planned on stashing the kill below the porch, more out of instinct than any worry that the New Master would let it go hungry. It had done the same when the Old Master had been alive as well, though the Old Master tried to break Ironjaws of the habit. The New Master didn't bother, seeming to understand that the wolf would always be just a touch wild, no matter that the Old Master had hand-reared it. Ironjaws liked the New Master and the way it was treated by him, but there were times when it would miss the Old Master, and the wolf would go lay on the spot of ground where the New Master had buried him, or pad about the house seeking out the Old Master's smell amongst the smells of the New Master and his Mate and Cub.

As it got within a half-mile of the house, Ironjaws caught wind of smells it didn't know, and its hackles automatically went up. Both the Old Master and the New Master were distrustful of strangers, and so Ironjaws was as well. It tucked the rabbit beneath some underbrush, then slinked on its belly towards the house. It could hear the Cub making a sound that Ironjaws identified with distress, and the Mate was making a similar sound, both of which were coming from the direction of the barn. There were two men with guns standing in front of the barn - going by smell, they were littermates - and though it couldn't see anyone else, it could smell three other men nearby, and it saw unfamiliar horses tied to the porch rail. The wolf then heard the harsh bark of the New Master from inside the barn, followed by his Mate letting out a terrible noise.

Now the wolf was bearing its teeth. The New Master was like Ironjaws: tame on the surface, but itching for a fight underneath, and the wolf could hear the call to fight in the New Master's growling words. So it obliged the New Master by darting across the yard and throwing itself at the smaller of the two men, knocking him to the ground. It sank its teeth into his throat as the larger man tried to pull the wolf off his littermate, but it was too late: the smaller man gurgled his last through a mouthful of blood. The task done, the wolf turned on the larger man, snapping and snarling and tearing at him with its claws until he let go and stumbled towards the partially-open barn door. But the wolf was enveloped by the smell of blood now, and the New Master's voice still carried the growl of warmaking, so Ironjaws pursued the larger man into the place of dim light and horse-smells.

* * *

"Don't do it, Cochrane! Y'all kin kill me, but don't touch them!" Hex struggled against his bonds, but all that got him was another blow to the back from Bauer.

"Oh, you'll die eventually," Cochrane answered, "but not until we've made you suffer a good long time. Turnbull wants you to feel what he felt when he heard you'd killed his son." The tip of his knife pricked at the tender flesh on Jason's neck. "Don't think he ever imagined that he'd be able to exact true eye-for-an-eye vengeance on you, but God works in strange..."

A pair of shouts came from outside, mingled with the savage growl of a wolf. Cochrane and his men all turned towards the barn door, and even Mei Ling looked in that direction, but not Jonah: like Cochrane, he wasn't one to waste a good distraction. While he'd regained movement in his legs while hanging from the hook, the price of that was a screaming amount of pain shooting up and down his spine whenever he did so. But that didn't discourage Jonah from his next move: he grabbed hold of the hook he was hanging from, pulled himself up, then swung his legs around Bauer's neck and squeezed. Bauer dropped his shovel and tried to pry Jonah's legs apart, but Jonah just squeezed tighter, letting out a howl of rage and agony as he did so, which caused Cochrane and Granger to look his way. They'd barely registered the sight when Dooley Dalton burst through the barn door, covered in blood and with the wolf hot on his heels. Ironjaws easily tripped Dooley up and dispatched him the same as it had his brother, then turned its feral eyes on Cochrane.

"To Hell with this," Cochrane said, and ran for the door, throwing his knife at Ironjaws - the wolf let out a yelp as the blade sank into its hindquarters. At the same time, Jonah used his grip on Bauer to steady himself, and he managed to slip his bindings off the hook - the two of them fell to the barn floor, the weight of Jonah's body snapping Bauer's neck with ease. Though it was difficult with his hands still bound together, the bounty hunter pulled a revolver from Bauer's gunbelt and shot Granger square in the chest, then turned it on the fleeing Cochrane, who still held their wailing son in his arms.

Before he could get off a shot, however, Mei Ling shouted, "No! You'll hit the baby!" That moment of motherly concern was enough to make Jonah second-guess himself, and when he pulled the trigger, he hit the edge of the barn door instead of Cochrane's head as the man slipped out of sight. Cursing, Jonah climbed to his feet to pursue...then promptly fell flat on his face as his legs gave out.

Mei Ling called his name repeatedly, to which he replied in an exhausted voice, "Shut the Hell up, woman. Ah ain't deaf nor dead." He then propped himself up on his arms and pulled his battered body across the floor until he was at her side. "Did they hurt yuh any?"

"No, but Jason...oh God, Jonah, that madman has Jason!" Her eyes were becoming swollen from all the tears she had shed that day.

"Ah'm well aware of thet." His tone seemed dismissive, but that was merely because it was taking all his self-control to not scream from all the pain he was in. After finding Granger's knife, Jonah cut the rope binding his hands, then set to work on Mei Ling's. "While Ah was unconscious, did they mention a hideout or any other place? The name of another town, even?"

"No...no, they didn't, they just...oh God, they just..." She paused a moment, then said, "Jonah, that man...Cochrane...he said you'd killed another man's son. Was this one of your bounties he was talking about? Or did you..." She left the rest unspoken, and Jonah didn't answer, he just kept cutting the ropes. Once she was freed, she helped him to his feet so he could stagger over to where Ironjaws lay. The knife was still stuck in the wolf's hide, but when Jonah pulled it out, the wound didn't seem too bad. "Good boy," he said as he petted Ironjaws, who responded by licking Jonah's hand before limping onto its own four feet.

The three of them stepped out of the barn and into the yard. Dusk was falling, but Jonah could make out the tracks of Cochrane's horse well enough, showing that he was heading in the direction of the foothills. It almost seemed as though he _wanted_ Jonah to follow, and far be it from him to not oblige a man who had a death wish. Not seeing what her husband saw, Mei Ling said, "We have to get you to Doc Pedersen's. And Hart...we have to get Hart to track Cochrane down before he hurts the baby. He's..."

"Ah won't let him hurt the baby," Jonah replied, "an' Ah ain't goin' tuh the doc's 'til Ah'm good an' ready."

"What do you mean?" she said, but the meaning was clear to her the second she looked upon his face, and she shouted, "You promised me! No more gunfighting, no more killing!"

"Whut the Hell do yuh think Ah just did in thet there barn, called a square dance?" he snapped back. "He's got our son, Mei Ling, an' Ah ain't about tuh let somebody else have the pleasure of dispatchin' thet bastard fer whut he tried tuh do tuh y'all."

"But you need a doctor! You can barely stand!" The words were no sooner out of her mouth than Jonah pushed her away - he swayed a bit, but he remained standing. "You can't do this, Jonah, he'll kill you!"

"Then Ah'll die doin' whut Ah do best."

Mei Ling stared at him, realizing that the kind, gentle man she'd fallen in love with was nowhere to be seen, only the cold-blooded killer remained, and there would be no arguing with that man over the promises he'd once made just for the sake of some useless emotion called love.

He walked her over to the house and untied one of the dead gunmen's horses from the porch rail. "Doc Pedersen lives closest," Jonah said as he helped her into the saddle, "so head fer there. After thet, y'all kin scare up Hart an' send him out thisaway. An' keep this on yuh." He placed Bauer's revolver in her hands. "Anybody comes near yuh that yuh don't recognize, shoot 'em. Understand?"

"Yes." Mei Ling's voice had become just as emotionless as Jonah's. He didn't appear to notice, though, and handed her the reins without another word. As Mei Ling rode away from the house, Jonah looked down at Ironjaws and said, "Stay with her, even if Ah never come back."

Ironjaws whined, but soon began to run after her, favoring its injured leg.

It wasn't until they were both far from the house that Jonah allowed himself to slump against the porch rail, a sound somewhere between a moan and a sob coming from his throat. He really _did_ need a doctor, but his son needed him more, so Jonah stuffed all the pain down as far as it would go, then climbed the porch steps and entered the house. Shattered glass crunched under his boots as he walked into the kitchen, a slight detour so he could grab a bottle of whiskey from the pantry. He pulled the cork out with his teeth and proceeded to pour it down his gullet as he made his way to the bedroom. Once there, he fell to his knees at the foot of the bed as if to pray, but there would be no prayers today. The Good Lord obviously never heard the ones Jonah made, so he didn't bother to offer up any. No, what he needed was a strictly man-made miracle, and he knew just where to get it.

Pushing aside the quilt sitting upon it, Jonah Hex opened the trunk at the foot of the bed, and removed his Dragoons and gunbelt. Then he took out his Confederate-gray coat. Just the mere sight of these items seemed to help him focus better on what was to come.

"Get ready fer war, Cochrane," he snarled.


	10. The Reckoning

**THE RECKONING**

_**1872:**_

It hurt to ride. Getting into the saddle had been no great pleasure, either, but the steady rhythm of the horse's movements as it galloped along caused fresh waves of agony to shoot up Jonah Hex's spine every few seconds. He did his best to ignore it, though, and kept his eyes on the tracks laid out across the snowy ground. Cochrane had made no attempts to hide them as he fled, which made Jonah think that the man was either very stupid or very clever. _Most likely the latter, considerin' whut he's done so far,_ Jonah mused. _He's probably hopin' thet Ah think him a fool so's he kin lead me straight into an ambush. Well. let him try! It'll just give me more skunks tuh take muh anger out on fer whut he tried tuh do tuh Mei Ling an' the boy._ The thought of that caused Jonah a different sort of pain. For close to a year now, he'd done his level best to protect Mei Ling from anything that could possibly hurt her (including his own infidelity, he was sad to admit), only to have a specter from his past rise up and sic a bunch of hired guns on him and his family, all in retaliation for something that wasn't even Jonah's fault. _If'n Ah live through this, Quentin Turnbull's gonna get whut's comin' tuh him as well._

Cochrane's trail led Jonah up to the foothills, where it veered off the established paths and towards rockier terrain. _Now he's tryin' tuh throw me,_ Jonah thought, _but it'll also slow him down._ Hex and his mount picked their way across icy scree, following the vague signs of Cochrane's passing, until he heard the wail of an infant echo through the foothills. "Jason," he gasped, then he spotted movement through a stand of bony trees about fifty yards away. Jonah spurred his horse in that direction, trusting in its instincts to find the best footing across the loose rocks as he concentrated on not losing sight of Cochrane.

The distance between the two men began to close, and soon Cochrane took notice. He yanked on his horse's reins to turn it further under the cover of the trees, but Hex wasn't about to let him slip away that easily. The bounty hunter reached down to his waist and drew his revolver, a brief moment of serenity washing over him as he felt the familiar weight of the Dragoon in his hand, its smooth ivory handle resting so comfortably against his palm. Some people probably thought it strange that a rough-and-tumble man like Jonah Hex would possess such beautifully-crafted weapons, and truth be told, he did come by them in a strange way. It involved an unexpected trip to Brazil via a hot-air balloon, and not of his own volition, either. While down there, Jonah became acquainted with a plantation owner who lent him the matched set of Dragoons for the duration of his stay. Not long after, Jonah discovered the plantation owner was a rather unscrupulous sort, and once he'd squared things up with the man in his usual fashion, Jonah decided that the Dragoons were better off in the hands of someone honest and hardworking like himself, as opposed to some no-good, lying, greedy skunk. Since that day, those Dragoons had become as much a part of Hex as the Confederate coat on his back, which made it difficult for him to lay them aside when he'd promised Mei Ling that he would give up his violent ways. But that promise became ancient history the moment Cochrane threatened Jonah and his family, and now that fine Colt revolver was back in his hand where it belonged, and he was glad for it.

Jonah pulled his horse up short so as to steady his aim, then drew a bead on Cochrane's back. A spilt-second before he pulled the trigger, however, he recalled Mei Ling's earlier concerns about him accidentally hitting their child instead. Since it appeared that Cochrane was holding little Jason against his chest as he rode, a bullet through the man's back would almost certainly go through the baby as well...so Jonah twitched the gun barrel over just an inch or so and shot Cochrane's horse instead. The bullet smashed into its skull, and the animal immediately crumpled to the ground. Luckily for Cochrane, he was smart enough to jump out of the saddle instead of letting himself be pinned beneath the horse's massive bulk. Despite the urgency of the maneuver, he kept a tight grip on the baby all the while, even going so far as to twist about and land on his back to protect the wailing infant from harm - the irony that he'd been threatening to kill that same infant roughly an hour ago was lost on him. As soon as Cochrane's horse went down, Jonah had set his own horse back into motion and galloped over to where his quarry had fallen. But it was too late: Cochrane had already gotten to his feet and drawn his pistol, and now the two men were staring at each other from behind the barrels of their respective weapons, Hex on horseback and Cochrane standing about fifteen feet away.

"It's over, Cochrane," Jonah said. "Just put muh boy down an' Ah'll let yuh live."

"Do you really think I'm stupid enough to believe that? I've boned up on you, Hex: You don't let nobody live if you think they've done wrong, especially to you personally."

"True enough, but Ah'm willin' tuh make an exception in yer case if'n it means yuh'll leave me an' muh family alone. Tell Turnbull yuh slaughtered the whole lot of us if'n yuh like. He's all the way over in Virginia, so he'll never know the dif'rence."

"Sorry, I can't do that. I'm a man of my word, and I promised Turnbull that I'd torture you 'til you were beggin' me to put a bullet in your brain." He shifted his grip on the baby so that his tiny body was laying over Cochrane's heart. "And seein' as how both your wife and son are still breathin', I reckon I've got a long ways to go on that."

"Keep talkin' like thet, an' Ah'll _show_ yuh how tuh really torture a man."

"Is that so? Funny, you don't seem like you're very eager to do so." Cochrane pressed his grizzled cheek against the baby's. "You've already got me in your sights, so why not shoot me? Go ahead and pull the trigger, Hex. Maybe you'll get lucky and you _won't _kill your little yellow brat as well."

The good side of Jonah's mouth curled up in a sneer as he cocked the hammer...but the same fear as before soon stayed his hand. Had he not been in so much pain, perhaps he could have counted more on his normally-deadly accuracy, but not at that moment, not when the mere act of holding his gun arm steady was such a chore. With an air of dejection, Jonah eased the hammer back down and lowered his gun.

"I'll be damned," Cochrane said breathlessly, "the great and mighty Jonah Hex is human after all. Let's keep this little act of humility going, shall we?" He made a slight downward gesture with the barrel of his own gun. "Why don't you climb off'n that high horse of yours? I want to see you grovel."

"Dammit, Cochrane..."

"_Do it!_ Or so help me, I'll bash this kid's head in!" the man yelled, briefly drowning out little Jason's cries. The baby had been wailing for so long now that it had degenerated into a hoarse, shuddering mewl, as if he could no longer draw sufficient breath to really let loose. The pathetic sound was enough for Hex to muster up the strength to swing himself out of the saddle. Once that was done, however, there wasn't enough strength remaining to keep his legs steady, and they immediately buckled. Both of his hands clamped onto the saddle horn in an effort to stay upright, to which the horse responded by sidestepping away from him. That only made things worse, and Cochrane let out a guffaw as Hex finally dropped to all fours. "Ah, now _this_ is a _peach_! It's a damn shame them other boys ain't alive to see this," Cochrane said.

Cold sweat beading on his brow, Jonah replied huskily, "Yuh kin tell 'em...when y'all meet up in Hell."

"Says the man who can't even stand on his own two feet. By the way, while you're down there, you mind tossin' those fancy guns of yours thisaway?" Jonah made no objection to this, and the Dragoons landed by Cochrane's feet seconds later. "Very nice. Now, I want you to face me in the right proper manner...on your knees, of course. No need to overexert yourself." Slowly and with teeth clenched, Jonah did as he was told, even going to far as to place his hands behind his head as he knelt on the ground in front of the other man. "You know," Cochrane said, "for somebody who betrayed his entire regiment, you take orders quite well."

"Ah'm gonna give yuh one last chance," Hex grunted. "Set muh boy down an' walk away, or else."

"Or else what? You ain't got one bit of leverage here. I've got your guns _and_ your boy, not to mention the fact that you're beginnin' to look like death warmed over." Cochrane laughed as he centered the sights of his pistol directly between Jonah's eyes. "You ain't got nothing left that can trump me."

Jonah didn't respond, at least not with words. Instead, he slipped his left hand beneath the collar of his Confederate-gray coat and took hold of the knife he kept hidden there. Ironically, this was a trick he'd started doing not long after the Fort Charlotte Massacre, when he vowed to never let himself be completely unarmed ever again. In one fluid motion, Hex whipped out the knife and lunged forward, letting out a scream that was half rage and half agony. Cochrane fired his gun the moment he realized what was happening, but since the target had moved, the bullet that was meant for Hex's skull caromed off the bounty hunter's right collarbone instead. Jonah didn't even feel it - his mind was focused solely on plunging the knife into Cochrane's lower abdomen and ripping it viciously to the side. Fresh blood spewed forth as Cochrane let out a scream of his own, and soon both men were on the ground. In an effort to fight off Hex, Cochrane let go of the baby, the precious bundle tumbling into a drift of snow a few feet away from them.

Now the battle began in earnest. Cochrane did his best to bring his pistol to bear again, but he and Jonah were too entangled for him to do so. Meanwhile, Jonah continued to plunge the knife over and over again into whichever chunk of Cochrane's flesh happened to be closest. Soon, Cochrane had taken too much damage to even hold onto the pistol anymore, much less fight back, yet Hex didn't ease up. For five long, horrifying minutes, he went to work on Beau Cochrane's body, slicing and carving and gutting the man in a very precise manner, one that ensured maximum torment without killing him outright. Eventually, though, the shock and the blood loss did him in, but that didn't stop Hex from taking the full measure of his rage out on the corpse, until the increasing pain from his own injuries forced the bounty hunter to quit.

The foothills were eerily quiet, save for Jonah's ragged breathing and the whimpers from his son. Like before, the sound of those cries made Jonah dig deep within himself and find one last shred of strength. "It's okay, little man," he croaked as he pushed himself away from Cochrane's mangled corpse and crawled to where the baby lay, "Ah'm here...yer Pa's here." His hands were slick with blood, so he did his best to cleanse them in the snow before picking up Jason. "Let me look at yuh...see if'n thet bastard did yuh any damage." The sound of his father's voice soothed the troubled child, and he smiled and cooed as Jonah checked him over. Miraculously, the baby had only sustained a few scratches. _Thank Yuh, Lord_, Jonah thought, kissing his son on the crown of his tiny head. _Thank Yuh fer protectin' him when Ah couldn't._

Now came the hard part: trying to stand up and get back on the horse. After unbuttoning his coat and tucking Jason inside, Hex coaxed the horse over to where he sat. He then wrapped a hand around the dangling reins and used the horse's own strength pull himself upright. He lasted about three seconds in this position before the intolerable pain from doing so made him fall flat on his back - both Jonah and the infant cried out when he impacted with the ground. _Try it again_, Jonah told himself as he lay there, staring up at the darkening sky, his breath coming in and out in short bursts in time with the stabs of agony up his spine. _Yo're gonna try it again an' again until y'all get on thet damn horse an' get yer boy home!_

"Okay," he gasped aloud. "Okay, Ah'm gonna...gonna..." But he couldn't even sit up this time, no matter how hard he tried. Every last ounce of energy within him had been spent. "Don't...don't worry, little man," he said as he felt his son's body wriggling against his chest. "Y'all just let me rest a spell, an' then...then we'll get a move-on." He continued to stare up at the sky, and he noticed that black clouds were rolling in from the edge of his vision. At least he _thought_ they were clouds. It was also getting much colder all of the sudden. "Just let me..let me rest...then...ruh...res'..."

Hex's eyes rolled up to the whites, and he said nothing more.

* * *

Mei Ling sat quietly in Doc Pedersen's office, wishing that she didn't have to think anymore. She'd been assaulted far too much today, both mentally and physically, and was overcome with this tremendous desire to shut down. But she knew that she couldn't, not until she knew her son and her husband were safe.

Her husband...at that moment, Mei Ling wasn't sure if the man she saw today _was_ her husband. He was Jonah Hex, that much was certain, but what had happened to the Jonah Hex that promised before God to love and obey her, and provided her with a beautiful child? All she'd seen today was a liar and a killer, and she was beginning to wonder if the man she'd fallen in love with had ever existed at all. She couldn't bring herself to voice any of these concerns to Doc Pedersen's wife, who'd been sitting with her ever since she and the doctor had escorted Mei Ling into town. It'd been hard enough to describe to Constable Hart the traumatic events that occurred back at the homeplace, and the thought of airing such personal problems like Jonah's affair with Emmylou Hartley was too much to bear at the moment.

There was a sound of boots clomping up the stairs outside, then the office door burst open and one of the townsfolk shouted, "The posse's riding up the street!"

Doc Pedersen grabbed his medical bag, asking, "Is Hex with them?" Mei Ling had told him about Jonah being shot.

"Didn't see him, but I think Hart had the baby," the young man at the door replied.

Mei Ling nearly leapt out of her chair at the last part, and soon she and the Pedersens were heading downstairs, Ironjaws right behind them - the wolf hadn't strayed more than two feet away from Mei Ling since it had caught up to her. As they reached the street, they caught sight of Hart and one of his deputies bringing their mounts to a stop in front of the building. Mei Ling stepped over to Hart and looked up at him, the expression on her face saying it all. "He's all right, Mei Ling," Hart told her, then handed her the bundle he'd been carrying.

Though there were bloodstains on the blanket, it was quickly evident that little Jason was indeed all right. Tears of joy began to roll down Mei Ling's cheeks as she hugged the baby tight, speaking words of love and comfort to him in Chinese. After Hart dismounted, she asked him, "What about Jonah? He's not...is he..."

"I'm not going to lie: Jonah's in real rough shape." Hart looked back the way he'd come, and Mei Ling saw another cluster of deputies riding towards them, flanking a horse dragging a travois. As it passed by the other townsfolk lining the street, many of them shook their heads or turned away. Placing an arm around Mei Ling's shoulders in a gesture of comfort, Hart led her over to the travois. Lashed to it beneath layers of blankets was Jonah Hex, his face as pale and cold as alabaster, and his gray uniform looking almost black in the waning light from all the blood upon it. "We found both of them up in the foothills," Hart told her. "Jonah was unconscious, but he'd had enough foresight to protect the baby from the cold. Otherwise, they both might've froze to death."

"What about the man that took Jason?"

"Cochrane? Dead ten times over." Hart shook his head in disgust, saying, "If I'd known what that bastard was planning when I met him three months back, I would've killed him myself right then and there."

Mei Ling slipped out from beneath Hart's arm and bent over Jonah, gently brushing her fingers across his cheek. To her surprise, his eyes opened halfway, and she said to him, "Can you hear me, Jonah?"

His lips moved soundlessly for a moment, then he rasped, "Save...the baby..."

"Yes, you did." Mei Ling smiled at him. "The baby's fine."

"Ah saved the baby," Jonah repeated, more strongly this time, but Mei Ling realized that, while his eyes were open, they were unfocused, seeing nothing...or at least he wasn't seeing Mei Ling. "Our baby girl...she's safe, Tallulah."

Fresh tears came to Mei Ling's eyes, now brought on by shock and sorrow. Just how many secrets was Jonah keeping from her? As Doc Pedersen stepped forward to examine Jonah's wounds, Mei Ling turned away from her husband, hugging the baby more tightly than ever. She soon noticed the sight behind her was no better: standing on the boardwalk across the street was Emmylou, who was looking at Jonah with the sort of concern that was usually reserved for a loved one.

Mei Ling glared silently at the woman, then followed Doc Pedersen and the others as they carried Jonah up to the doctor's office.

* * *

Due to the severity of his injuries, Doc Pedersen insisted that Jonah be kept in the bed at his office for the time being. There were concerns that the bullet lodged near Jonah's spine (which the doctor had removed with painstaking care) might have done permanent damage, so the less jostling about Jonah had to suffer though, the better for his long-term health it would be. His other wounds were mended as well, and generous amounts of laudanum were administered to help him cope with the pain. Because of this, Jonah spent most of his recovery time sleeping, with brief periods of wakefulness peppered throughout.

To assure that no complications arose, a watch detail was set up. During the night, it was comprised mainly of patrons from the Roundyard Saloon (all stone sober, though not without complaint), while the daylight hours were reserved for Mei Ling. Constable Hart would ride out to the Hex homestead every morning to provide escort for her and the baby - Ironjaws would follow as well, still obeying its master's last orders - and throughout the day, Mei Ling would sit at Jonah's bedside, doing her best to play the dutiful wife though her heart was still in pain. The things she heard Jonah mutter in his sleep didn't help with that. He would call out to this mysterious Tallulah, or to his long-lost fiancée Cassie, each name said with a measure of sorrow. Once he spoke in a language Mei Ling couldn't understand but presumed was some Indian tongue, which led her to believe he was dreaming of that other girl he once told her of, White Fawn. There were also times where his hands would ball into fists upon the bedsheets as he screamed Jason's name, yet even then, Mei Ling never heard her own name come from the lips of her husband. The only consolation she had was that she never heard him call out for Emmylou, either. On the occasions when Jonah was awake, she remained silent about all of this, and instead they would talk of mundane things. Not once did she bring up the subject of his infidelity nor any of the other concerns that weighed upon her, for whenever she looked into Jonah's tired eyes or heard the rasps of pain in his voice, she couldn't bring herself to do it. _When he is strong again, we will discuss these matters_, she told herself. _It would not be right to confront him further about such things when he is still struggling to live. Let him rest, and wait for the proper time to come._

She had no idea that those were the same sort of excuses Jonah had made to himself whenever he considered telling Mei Ling the truth about himself and Emmylou Hartley.

* * *

Roughly two weeks after the attack by Cochrane and his men, Mei Ling arrived at Doc Pedersen's office to hear a commotion taking place inside. Constable Hart, accompanying her as always, drew his gun and carefully cracked the door to the office open. Inside, he saw Mrs. Pedersen standing alone in the waiting room with a fretful look on her face. "Oh, thank the Lord you've arrived," she said upon seeing Hart. "They've been holding him back so far, but I'm not sure how long that will last."

"Who's holding whom back?" Hart asked. He opened the door wider, and Ironjaws ran into the office, heading straight for the room Jonah was laid up in. The door was shut, but it did little to muffle the shouts coming from behind it. "What the Hell's going on in there?"

"My husband and that young man...Loy, is it? They're trying to keep Jonah from leaving."

Mei Ling, still standing at the office entrance and cradling Jason in her arms, said to Mrs. Pedersen, "What's wrong with Jonah wanting to leave? The doctor said yesterday that he should be able to come home soon."

"He doesn't just want to leave the office," Mrs. Pedersen replied. "He wants to head to the train station and _leave town_."

As that bit of information was sinking in, they all heard Jonah bellow, "Ah warned yuh, boy!" Then the other door slammed open from the force of Loy crashing into it. The young man sprawled out on the floor before them, a bruise already forming on the right side of his face. As Hart helped him up, Loy groaned, "Hex may be wobbly on his feet, but his left cross is a dilly."

"An' yo're gonna see how good muh _right_ cross is if'n y'all get in muh way again." Jonah was now standing in the doorway, his hands braced against the frame while Doc Pedersen stood behind him, well out of striking distance. He was dressed in his Confederate coat again, which still bore a few dark stains from blood that just wouldn't wash off, and his gunbelt hung from his hips. A look of pure rage filled his eyes as he surveyed the people blocking his way to the door outside, though Ironjaws didn't seem to take any notice of that, sitting down by its master's feet as if awaiting new orders.

"Hex, have you gone crazy?" Hart said, stepping up to him. "You're finally able-bodied enough to get out of bed, so the first thing you do is assault your friends? And what's this about you wanting to leave town?"

"Ah've got a score tuh settle. The man thet sent Cochrane here might do the same again, an' Ah aim tuh make sure thet he_ don't_."

"Who, that Turnbull fella? Hex, I haven't found a lick of evidence that connects the two men, and I've..."

"Tuh Hell with evidence! Ah've got Cochrane's word, not tuh mention Turnbull's own threat still ringin' in muh ears from all them years back! He swore that he'd dance on muh grave one day, an' he got awful close tuh puttin' me in it a couple of weeks ago. So whut in blazes makes yuh think thet Ah'm gonna let him get away with thet?"

"Because the word of a dead man won't stand up in court," Hart replied. "We need tangible proof that Turnbull gave the order to kill you and your family."

"The last time yuh waited around tuh find yer vaunted 'proof', Windy Taylor ended up dead by his son's own hand. Remember _thet_, constable?" When he saw Hart blanch, Jonah nodded in satisfaction and said, "Glad Ah made muh point clear." He reached out, pushed Hart aside, and made his way to the door leading outside. No one else dared to stand in his way...except for Mei Ling. She remained in the doorway, back straight and feet firmly planted. Had she not been holding the baby, she probably would have put her hands on her hips for good measure. Jonah paused, staring her down with the same sort of intensity that he'd used on Hart, but Mei Ling didn't budge. After a few seconds of this, Jonah said to her, "Step aside." No _sugar_. No _darlin'_. Just a plain, unfeeling order.

"You're not leaving," Mei Ling replied in the same tone.

"Thet a fact?"

"Yes, it is." She squared her small shoulders as she told him, "I want my husband back. The one who promised to be a good man, not the one who thinks that killing is the best way to solve every problem. I want to love you again, and I want our child to have a father. But if you leave..." Her voice broke as she struggled to get the words out. "If you leave, I will mourn you for the rest of my life, because it will be proof that the man who was once my husband is dead."

"Ah ain't dead, an' Ah ain't _gonna_ die, so quit talkin' nonsense like thet."

"It is _not_ nonsense. It's the _truth_. My husband is a man who loves me deeply, and would do whatever he could just to see me happy, but you...you are an _animal_." With each breath, all the awful thoughts and feelings that had been building inside of her for the past two weeks came to the surface and tainted every sound that came from her mouth. "You're a bloodthirsty, selfish animal that seeks out every opportunity it can to satisfy its urges. You _murder_, and you _rut_..."

Jonah's hand shot out, fast as lightning, and slapped Mei Ling across the face. A split-second action, made without thought to its repercussions other than the immediate ones, namely making Mei Ling shut up. "Y'all have no idea of the things Ah've done with yer happiness in mind," he growled, "so don't yuh _dare_ stand here an' lecture me 'bout not bein' a proper husband. Yo're _important_ tuh me, so much so thet Ah'll kill _anybody_ thet tries tuh take yuh from me. Understand thet? Ah'm doin' this fer _yer _sake, not muh own. So get the Hell out of muh way so's Ah kin finish this."

Casting her eyes down to the floor, Mei Ling stepped out of the doorway. Before Jonah walked through, he said to her, "Ah don't know how long Ah'll be gone...couple of months, probably. It's a long way from here tuh Virginia. When Ah get back, though, Ah'll put muh guns away, same as afore. Ah promise."

And with that, Jonah left the doctor's office, closing the door behind him. He didn't see Mei Ling fall to her knees, nor did he hear her hysterical sobs as the other people present tried to comfort her.

* * *

"Richmond...end of the line...Richmond..." The conductor walked down the aisle of the passenger car as he called out the location. Many of the people had already disembarked, but it was his job to make sure that there were no stragglers or baggage left behind. At the far end of the car, the conductor spotted a man in an old Confederate uniform, his hat pulled low over his face and his feet propped upon the seat directly across from him. A half-empty bottle of whiskey lay beside him as he snored. "Sir, we've reached the end of the line," the conductor said, nudging the man's shoulder.

Jonah Hex grunted, then pushed back his hat to look at the conductor, who jerked away at the sight of his scars. This was fine by Jonah, as he wasn't in a sociable mood. Though his wounds were mostly healed by now, there was still a bad ache in his back, which he'd been self-medicating during the trip with the aforementioned whiskey. Of course, now that he'd finally reached his destination, Jonah would have to sober up a bit, and the thought of that just made his mood worse.

Grunting again, Jonah stood up, making sure to grab the whiskey beforehand. As he turned toward the exit, the conductor said, "Sir, didn't you bring any baggage?"

"Ah've got everything Ah need right here," Jonah replied. At first, the conductor thought he was referring to the bottle dangling from his hand, then he saw that the former johnny-reb was patting his other hand against the Dragoon tucked under his belt. This caused the conductor to move away even further.

Jonah paused for a moment on the station platform and looked about. It was hard to believe it had only been seven years since he'd last set foot in Richmond. Seven years since he thought the War had been laid to rest. But now it was obvious that, for one man at least, the horrid wounds brought on by the War were still fresh and bleeding, and the pain of them had deluded that man into thinking only the spilling of more blood - innocent blood - could soothe them. And now Jonah Hex had come back to the place he'd briefly called home in order to show Quentin Turnbull the truth of the matter.

After borrowing a saddle horse from a nearby livery, Jonah rode out to where the Turnbull plantation lay. The sun had set by the time he reached it, but even in the twilight, Jonah could tell that the house and the grounds surrounding it had regained most of their antebellum glory. _He's livin' in the past in more ways than one_, Jonah thought. He dismounted out of sight of the house and left the animal in a stand of trees just off the road, then went in the rest of the way on foot, creeping from one shadow to the next. Recalling the layout from memory, Jonah moved along the perimeter until he reached the parlor. It had been Turnbull's habit to spend many hours there, and as Jonah carefully peered through the half-open window, he saw that his instincts were correct: Turnbull was sitting in a chair next to the fireplace, and across from him was a one-armed man that, after a moment or two of thought, Jonah recognized as a member of his old regiment, Rufus Temple. Luckily, neither of them were facing the window, and they were too deep in conversation to notice the sash moving up just a little higher to admit a new guest into the dimly-lit room.

"All this waitin' is tearin' my guts up," Temple was saying. "I keep expectin' the law to come a-poundin' on my door any day now."

"Calm yourself, my boy," Turnbull replied. "We took all the necessary precautions, and despite his...colorful resume, I believe Mr. Cochrane to be a man of his word. Even if he _was_ arrested, he swore to never divulge our little secret. Besides, who would believe such a man? No one of authority, I assure you."

"It ain't just the authorities I'm worried about, an' you know it." Temple rubbed a hand over his face. "What if Hex took out Cochrane instead of the other way around?"

"Doubtful. From Cochrane's report, Hex has degenerated into a drunk and a womanizer, not to mention that he was already a soft-bellied traitor. A man like that couldn't hope to last long against a true patriot like Cochrane."

"Then Ah reckon Ah must be a ghost come back tuh haunt y'all," Jonah called out as he straightened up beside the window. "Better yet, maybe Ah've come tuh drag yuh down tuh Hell with me!"

Both men nearly leapt out of their chairs to stare at Jonah with jaws agape, then Turnbull found his voice and spat out, "You...you _Judas_! How dare you break into my home and..."

"Ah dare tuh do so 'cause y'all dared tuh send a hired gun after me! Whut's the matter, Turnbull? Too damn yellow tuh get them soft little hands of yers dirty?"

Before Turnbull could make a reply, Temple made it for him: the former solider stepped forward, then reached beneath his coat and drew a single-shot derringer, meaning to finish the job Cochrane started. Unfortunately, he'd forgotten that Jonah Hex had been the fastest, deadliest shot in their entire regiment. One of Hex's Dragoons went off before Temple could even take aim, and the man cried out as the bullet ripped through his bicep. "Try it again, Rufe, an' Ah'll make sure yuh lose _thet_ arm, too," Jonah told him with a snarl.

"Bastard," Temple gasped. "You no-good, traitorous _bastard_!" He ran at him, still holding the derringer but now swinging it up to club Hex with it. Jonah blocked it easily, then brought up his own gun and cold-cocked his former comrade-in-arms. Temple fell to the floor, unconscious, but that didn't stop Hex from training his Dragoon upon him once more.

Before Jonah could pull the trigger, however, something cracked against his own skull. He managed to keep on his feet, though, and turned to see Turnbull brandishing his eagle-headed cane with both hands. Turnbull swung again, but Jonah ducked this time, diving at the older man's legs and sending them both down onto the carpet. Their respective weapons were knocked free from their grasp, so the two men resorted to bare hands, punching and clawing at each other like savages. Despite his age, Turnbull held out fairly well, but youth won out in the end, with Hex pinning Turnbull to the floor and wrapping his hands around Turnbull's throat. "Yo're gonna die fer whut yuh tried tuh do tuh muh family," Jonah said through gritted teeth, "an' whut Ah do on _yer_ grave won't pass fer flowers, Ah guarantee it." His muscular hands squeezed tightly, and Turnbull's face began to turn an alarming shade of purple, but Hex couldn't see it, for his mind's eye was filled with the image of his infant son crying in Cochrane's grasp, and of Mei Ling kneeling on the barn floor as Granger held a knife to her throat. They had nearly died because of Turnbull; it was _his_ fault, _all of it_, and the only way to prevent such a thing from ever happening again was by killing Turnbull. _It was the only way..._

Then the image in his mind changed. He saw Mei Ling when she was only a few months' pregnant with their child, and she was looking up at him with a mixture of tenderness and sadness as she laid a hand upon his chest. _I love the good man that resides in here, and has blessed me with a child, _she was saying to him, _but I do not love the killer that walks about in the world_. Then he saw Mei Ling as she was right before he left, on the verge of tears as she said, _You're a bloodthirsty, selfish animal that seeks out every opportunity it can to satisfy its urges._ But Jonah knew that wasn't true. He wasn't an animal, he was just a man trying to protect his family, that's all. He _could_ be a good man, dammit, he _wanted_ to be, and he would be again just as soon as he killed Turnbull. After that, he'd _stay_ a good man...until the next person forced him to revert back to his old ways...and the next person after that...and the next one after _that_...

Slowly, Jonah loosed his grip upon Turnbull's throat as the meaning of Mei Ling's words finally sank in. He could either be a good man, or he could be a killer...there was no way for him to be both, no matter how hard he tried. How often had he gotten blood on his hands during the past year, and how often had he told himself that it would be the _last_ time? He had to stop this, right here and right now, or else he'd spend the rest of his life trying to justify to himself all the corpses left in his wake.

He let go of Turnbull, who drew air into his lungs in long, wheezing gulps. Standing up, Jonah said to him, "Ah'm gonna let yuh live, old man, an' Ah want y'all tuh keep in mind thet Ah showed yuh mercy, even though Ah had the perfect opportunity tuh kill yuh. Remember thet the next time yuh start thinkin' Ah done yuh wrong."

"S-s-suh...suh-still a truh...traitor," Turnbull choked out as he lay on the floor.

"Just 'cause y'all keep sayin' it don't make it so...maybe someday yuh'll learn thet." Jonah picked up his Dragoon, then walked to the parlor door, intent on leaving the house in the proper manner. When he opened the door, however, he was confronted with a surprising sight: Turnbull's colored manservant, Solomon, was standing in the foyer with a shotgun leveled at Hex. Lines of worry creased the man's sweaty brow, but his eyes held a look of determination.

They stood like statues in the middle of the foyer for a full minute, neither man moving nor saying a word until, finally, Solomon lowered the gun with an air of defeat. Jonah made no attempt at retribution, he simply approached the man and gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder, then made his way to the front door.

* * *

The train trip back home seemed to take longer than the one to Richmond. It was the same distance both ways, of course, so Jonah chalked it up to his eagerness to see Mei Ling. He wanted to hold her again, to kiss her, and to tell her that the good man within himself prevailed in the end. He'd stayed his hand at a time when blind rage nearly consumed him, all because he remembered what she'd told him. Jonah hoped that she would be proud of his restraint, and that they could put behind them all the bad things that had been polluting their marriage. He would make amends for his infidelity. He would be a proper example for his son. No more lies. No more gunfights. No more blood. Just peace.

When Jonah finally arrived back in Cheyenne, he stepped off the train a changed man. His uniform and guns were stowed away in a carpet bag, and he'd cleaned himself up proper so as to show Mei Ling his new attitude. He'd sent a telegram from the train's last stop to let her know he'd be home soon, but as his eyes scanned the platform, Jonah realized she wasn't there. This put a pang of worry in his heart, and he headed over to the livery so he could borrow a horse. Before he reached it, however, Constable Hart appeared upon the boardwalk to block his path. "I was just on my way to the station to meet you, " Hart said. "Didn't know that the train had arrived early."

"Not early enough," Jonah replied. "Now, if'n yuh'll excuse me, Ah've gotta get home."

Hart grabbed his arm. "Not yet. Come on over to my office first."

"Whut's goin' on? Is Mei Ling okay?" But Hart wouldn't answer, he just led Jonah down the street to the constable's office. Once inside, Jonah could hear an animal howling in the back where the cells were located - after a moment, he recognized the howls as belonging to Ironjaws. Jonah walked over there to find the wolf pacing round and round a cell, whining the way he did after Windy died. "C'mere, boy," Jonah said as he reached through the bars. Ironjaws slinked over to Jonah's hand with its head down and its tail between its legs. As he petted the wolf, Jonah said to Hart, "Yuh mind tellin' me whut _this _is all about?"

"I'm sorry, Hex, but it was the only way I could keep him under control. He damn-near tore my arm off when I tried to chain him up."

"An' why in blazes would yuh do a stupid thing like thet? Ah left him here tuh protect Mei Ling, an' he cain't do thet if'n..."

"Jonah, Mei Ling's..." The constable took a deep breath. "Mei Ling's gone."

"Whut do yuh mean, 'gone'? Yuh don't mean she's..."

"No...no, she's not dead. She's just...she left, Jonah. About a week after you did. She packed up and took the baby with her to San Francisco. She asked me to look after Ironjaws, and I've got your horses stabled over at the livery..." There was genuine note of sadness in his voice. "I'm sorry, Jonah."

Jonah gave Hart a cold look. "Yo're lyin'."

"I'm afraid not. She...she left a letter for me to give to you. It's in my desk." He walked to the front of the office and produced an envelope from a drawer. "I told her she should wait until you got back, but I think she was too scared."

"Whut in the blue Hell are yuh talkin' about?" Jonah followed after Hart, then snatched the envelope out of the man's hand. He didn't open it, though, he just turned it over in his hands. "Ah'm her husband, dammit. Why'd she be scared of me?"

"Hex, you weren't exactly acting very sane the day you left here. You beat the Hell out of Loy, you struck Mei Ling right across the face, and I heard about how you treated Izzy and his wife right before Cochrane..."

"Them backstabbers _deserved_ tuh be treated like thet! They came into muh home an'...dammit, they stuck their noses in where they didn't belong! Thet whole thing with Emmylou wasn't none of their business!"

"So the rumors _are _true, then?"

Jonah's face reddened, both from anger and embarrassment, then he said, "Yo're wrong about Mei Ling. She may've left, but she's probably just gone tuh visit her brother. Ah told her Ah'd be away fer a couple of months."

Hart shook his head. "I wish that was true, for your sake, but believe me, she's not coming back, Jonah. She said all her goodbyes to everyone...and I think that's yours." He gestured to the envelope.

"An' Ah say _yo're wrong_!" Jonah stalked over to the office door and banged it open, not giving a damn that Ironjaws was still howling inside a cell. He had to get home and see for himself that Mei Ling was really gone. He went to the livery and, sure enough, his horse was there. _Don't prove nothin'_, he told himself as he drove the horse up to a full gallop, making the miles between Cheyenne and the homeplace fly by. The moment he got there, he jumped out of the saddle and ran up to the house. A warm spring breeze blew across the yard, but he couldn't feel it, all his attention was focused on that closed front door and the shuttered windows. He ran up the porch steps, flung the door open, and stopped.

The house was bare of life. Many of the personal touches Mei Ling had put upon the front room were gone, either put away or taken with her. The pot-bellied stove was cold and empty, as was the fireplace. Somehow, Jonah got his legs to carry him forward, down the hall to where their bedroom was, and even that place of intimacy now looked sterile. The cradle still stood in the corner, but the blankets that usually lay within it were gone. All of the items the ladies of Cheyenne had given them for the baby had also vanished, along with Mei Ling's clothes. Jonah's few belongings remained, neatly folded in the chest of drawers which was now only half-full. There was nothing left of his wife at all. It was as if she'd never been there.

"No." It was all he could think to say. Simple denial. But saying the word couldn't undo what lay before him. Jonah wandered around the room, searching for some scrap of her that might accidentally have been left behind, then sat down heavily upon the bed when he found none. After a while, he remembered the letter, which had been crushed in his fist as he rode home. He smoothed out the envelope, opened it, and forced himself to read what it contained:

_Dear Jonah,_

_I wish I didn't have to do this, but after all the things that have happened_

_recently, I feel it's for the best. I still love you, and I always will, and I am sure_

_that, somewhere within you, there is a part that still loves me and our son. But it_

_is because of that other part of you, the part which is so full of anger and hate, that_

_I have chosen to leave._

_I realize now that we never should have married. You felt obligated because of_

_the baby, and so you tried to suppress your true nature in order to please me._

_I take blame for that. I thought my love would be enough to tame you, but it's not._

_You have to want it as well, and I don't think you ever will, not completely. So I'm_

_letting you go before you accidentally destroy what little love remains between us._

_Please, do not follow me. I want to be able to raise our son in a safe and peaceful_

_environment. I want to do for him what I could not do for you, and teach him to be_

_a good and loving person, free of the violence that consumed you at such a young_

_age. As I do this, I shall pray for you, in the hope that you will someday embrace the_

_goodness within yourself and abandon all your hate. Perhaps if you ever succeed,_

_we can be together again, but until that happens, please stay away._

_Farewell,_

_Mei Ling_

"No." The word came out with more conviction this time, more like an order. Jonah stood up and took a few steps forward, his hands balling into fists to crush the letter once again. He leaned on the chest of drawers in front of him, as if there was not enough strength in his legs to keep him upright. "_No_." Now the volume of his voice was rising, and he braced his hands on either side of it. _"NO!"_ It was a full-blown yell now, one that caused spittle to fly from his lips as he threw the chest of drawers violently to the side. It crashed to the floor, drawers popping out and clothes spilling like woolen guts, but that wasn't good enough for Jonah, so he began to kick it until the wood splintered. Once that was done, he stalked about the room, grabbing what little remained in there and throwing it topsy-turvy. The cradle shattered in the corner. The mattress flipped off the bedframe. The sheets shredded into ribbons. During all this, his eyes had taken on a shine of madness, and who could blame him for that? He'd finally become the so-called "good man" that Mei Ling always wanted him to be, and what had she done? She'd left him for not doing it _fast_ enough! That fickle _bitch_!

It wasn't long before Jonah left the bedroom so he could turn his attention to the rest of the house. The kitchen was first: he grabbed a chair and swung it about until every last dish in the cupboard was smashed to bits, then broke what was left of the chair against the wall. The rocker by the fireplace suffered the same fate. Jonah's breathing sounded like heavy growls by then, and he was baring his teeth, but he didn't care. Mei Ling had dared to call him an animal before, so dammit, he was going to act like one! He'd tear this entire house apart just to spite her! He grabbed a wooden box that had been left on the mantel and threw it into the empty fireplace - the box burst apart on impact, sending its contents flying all over the room. Jonah didn't notice at first, his rage having rendered him blind to anything that wasn't directly in front of him, but when he finally ran out of things to destroy, he caught sight of all the little spots of red and blue on the floor, and now it was all he _could_ see.

"No." Back to denial again, but of a different sort. He knelt on the floor and scooped up a handful of what had been inside the box: the toy soldiers he'd bought at Christmastime for his son, once pristine but now bent and broken. The boy was far too young for them yet, but Jonah wanted the boy to have them, since they resembled the ones Jonah himself had as a boy...until his father had thrown them into the fireplace in a fit of rage.

"_No_." The word trembled in his throat as Jonah looked around the room at the destruction he'd wrought. How many times had he witnessed his father go on similar rampages while growing up? And how many times had he wished his father didn't exist because of such incidents? But he wasn't his father. He loved his son and his wife, and he never, _ever_ wanted to hurt them...but he had. He'd slept around and killed and done whatever he felt like, all the while hiding every indiscretion from Mei Ling in a misguided effort to "protect" her. He could say he'd changed all he liked, but the truth of the matter was, deep down, he'd always be just as wicked in his heart as his father. Unfortunately, he'd learned that fact far too late. For just like his mother had walked out on his father, now his wife and son had done the same to him, because monsters like Woodson and Jonah Hex didn't deserve to have families.

There were no more words that could be said, not even that single negative. The only sound Jonah could manage was a mournful, choking sob as he curled up on the floor amidst the mess he'd wrought, his arms locking over his head as if to ward off the blows he'd been enduring his entire life.

* * *

Emmylou Hartley primped herself in front of the mirror in her hotel room. It had been three days since Jonah had come back to Cheyenne, and though Emmy desperately wanted to see him, she thought it would be best to give him a little time. She knew that he loved Mei Ling as well, and it wouldn't be right to show up on his doorstep immediately after he'd lost her. But that didn't mean Emmy wasn't ready to step into Mei Ling's place and become the wife he truly deserved. She'd _never_ leave him, no matter what. And so, after three whole days of patient waiting, Emmylou decided that she'd given him enough time. She fixed her hair just how Jonah liked it, and clothed herself in her finest-looking dress, all the while imagining the way Jonah would sweep her up in his strong arms and ravish her until Mei Ling became a distant memory. It would be a perfect life, filled with love and happiness...and children! She'd bear Jonah's children gladly, now that his son was gone as well. Oh, what a wonderful life she would have with him! It was going to be everything she ever wanted!

Emmy positively floated down the staircase as she exited the hotel. There were a few people in the lobby, and she gave them her warmest smile. How she wished she could share with them the joy she felt, but it was impossible to put into words. Perhaps they would get an inkling of it the first time they saw her and Jonah walking down the street arm-in-arm. She imagined doing just that as she made her way to the livery, eager to rent a buckboard so she could begin her new life. When she passed near Constable Hart's office, however, she saw that there would be no need to go any further, for Jonah was just stepping out with Hart at his side and Ironjaws at their heels. She stood across the street from them for a moment, admiring the fine figure Jonah cut in his Confederate uniform. Her heart beat faster than ever at the sight of him, and soon she was crossing the muddy street to be with her new beau. As she got closer, she noticed the haggard look upon his unshaven face. Perhaps she shouldn't have waited so long, it was obvious that he needed comfort. Well, now he would have it, forever and always.

"I'll keep an eye on the house, I promise," she could hear Hart saying to Jonah as she approached. "Whenever you decide to come back, I'll have it in perfect order for you."

"Yuh'd damn-well better," he replied. This snippet of conversation confused Emmy. Jonah was leaving? She must have misunderstood. But then she saw Jonah walk over to the hitching post, where his saddle horse waited with another tethered behind it, loaded down with various bits of gear. Whatever journey Jonah was about to head out on, it was obviously going to be a long one.

"Jonah!" she called out as she ran up to him. "Jonah, where are you going?" She saw him turn towards her, and she expected him to smile at her like always, but instead he scowled, and his eyes were dark and narrow, much like the way Eagle Who Stands used to look at her. This shocked her so badly that she never saw Jonah's hand come up, but she certainly felt it when he backhanded her across the face. Emmy fell down in the middle of the street, muddying her pretty dress. _What did I do wrong?_ she thought, just like she'd always thought after Eagle Who Stands would strike her. Cautiously, she lifted her head, and Jonah was glaring at her.

"Yuh ever come near me again, an' Ah'll kill yuh," he said. His tone was so venomous, so unlike anything she'd ever heard him say, that she could think of no other reaction than to cower at his feet, just like she used to do when Eagle Who Stands acted like that. Jonah didn't seem to pay any mind to Emmy's submissive posture, and turned away from her so he could climb into his saddle. "Soon's Ah make some bounty money, Ah'll send a little along tuh pay fer the upkeep on the place," Jonah said to Hart. "Thet sound like a good deal?"

"Sure." Hart's voice was tight, for his mind was more on kneeling down to help Emmy. The girl immediately latched onto the constable, and together they watched Jonah ride out of town, the wolf trotting alongside its master's mount.

Tears began to run down Emmy's swollen cheek as she asked Hart, "Why...why did he do that? I _love_ him."

"I know you do," Hart answered. "A lot of us do, and I'm sure there's a lot of people he loves as well...but I don't think he's capable of holding one ounce of love for himself."

**THE END**


End file.
